\ .
«
Field Theory
in Social Science
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ZNANHCKI, florian: •The Social Role of the
Man of Knowledge. Introduction by Lewis
Coser.
• In Preparation
Field Theory
in Social Science
by
Kurt Lewin
Director^ 'R4S€arch C^nttr for Croup Dynamtcj
Massachusotts Institutt of Technology
Edited by
DORWIN CARTWRIGHT
HARPER TORCHBOOKS ▼ The Academy Library
Harper & Row, Publishers
New York, Evanston and London
/
f': o c/ , y
>^r.c i
^ ’-j ci^
L
flLLPMQ lOBPL LIBRPRY
Copyright, 1951, by Harper & Row, Publishers, Incorporated.
Printed in the United States of America.
This book was originally published in 1951 by
Harper & Brothers.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quptadons
embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address
Harper & Row, Publishers, Incorporated
49 East 33rd Street
New York 16, N. Y.
First HARPER TORCHBOOK edition published 1964 by
Harper & Row, Publishers, Incorporated
New York, Evanston and London
Contents
Foreword vii
Preface xvii
I, Formalization and Progress in Psychology i
II. Constructs in Field Theory 30
III. Defining the “Field at a Given Time” 43
IV. Field Theory and Learning 60
V. Regression, Retrogression, and Development 87
VI. Field Theory and Experiment in Social
Psychology i30
VII. Problems OF Research IN Social Psychology 155
VIII. Psychological Ecology 170
IX. Frontiers in Group Dynamics 188
X. Behavior and Development as a Function
OF THE Total Situation 238
Appendix. Analysis of the Concepts Whole,
Differentiation, and Unity
Index
339
Foreword
When the intellectual history of the twentieth century is written,
Kurt Lewin will surely be counted as one of those few men whose
work changed fundamentally the course of social science in its most
critical period of development. During his professional life of only
about thirty years, the social sciences grew from the stage of specula¬
tive system building, through a period of excessive empiricism in
which facts were gathered simply for their intrinsic interest, to a
more mature development in which empirical data are sought for
the significance they can have for systematic theories. Although the
social sciences are only barely into this third stage of development,
Lewin's work has accelerated greatly the rate of development, '^ough
he was primarily a psychologist and made his major contributions in
that field, the influence of his work has extended well beyond the
bounds of traditional psychology.
One reason for this breadth of influence is that much of his work
concerned itself with determining the methodological and conceptual
prerequisites for a mature science of human behavior. His earliest
work in Berlin dealt with the comparative theory of science, an enter¬
prise which permitted him as a young man to get clear what the
formal properties of a developed human science must be. He then
proceeded throughout the rest of his life to work systematically
toward establishing such a science. As a consequence of this early
concern with the necessary conditions for scientific progress, his sub¬
sequent work on a broad range of special topics in psychology and
sociology had a consistent orientation and a pointed impact upon
social science generally.
The influence Lewin exerted upon social science is remarkable in
that a fully systematic statement of his work was never drawn together
in readily accessible form during his life. Most English-speaking
social scientists knew him through his Dynamic Theory of Personality
and his Principles of Topological Psychology. While these volumes
viii Foreword
brilliantly propounded the broEd outlines of his work, they merely
alluded to the more systematic type of development presented in such
lesser known publications as Der Begrrff der Genese in Physik,
Biologic, und Bntwicklungsgeschichte, the Conceptual Representation
and the M.easurement of Psychological Forces, the several introduc¬
tions and appendixes to series of publications of his co-workers, and
papers scattered throughout various journals. Moreover, these two
more widely known books contain none of the results of his highly
productive years of work after he came to America. Many of the
controversies that grew up in regard to his systematic position
stemmed from the fact that his work was only partially known.
The writings brought together in this book should help greatly to
clarify the systematic nature of Lewin’s contributions to psychology
and the social sciences. Although they were written during a relatively
short span of his life (approximately the last ten years), they add up
to a remarkably comprehensive statement of his major contributions.
Even those familiar with the individual chapters will find that reread¬
ing them together and in sequence provides new insights and a deeper
understanding of the full significance of this monumental work.
It is possible to state the theme of this volume as a thorough and
careful answer to the question: What is field theory in social science?
This question is concisely answered in Chapter 3: "Field theory is
probably best characterized as a method: namely, a method of analyz¬
ing causal relations and of building scientific constructs." (P. 45.)
The answer to this question, however, is treated throughout the book
in many different ways with particular illustrations from many differ¬
ent fields. It is stated in terms of what the field theorist does as well
as what he believes. It makes clear that field theory is more an
approach to the scientific task than a theory about a realm of data.
In a broader sense, then, Lewin analyzes in this volume the majoi
attributes that will characterize the working methods of any produc¬
tive social scientist, regardless of his theoretical orientation. Or, to
put the matter differently, he discusses many basic problems of scien
tific method which all social scientists must face and he proposes
solutions not so much on a basis of absolute "right or wrong" as in
terms of what will make the scientist most productive. He believes
strongly that science is a continuous enterprise in which advance is
made by successive approximations to "the truth" and by a never-
Foreword ix
ending series of small excursions into the unknown. It is more than
a coincidence that so productive a scientist should be greatly con-
cerned with the problems of scientific productivity. It is significant,
too, that, althou^ his own personal experiences dramatized all too
emphatically the political and social influences upon scientific pro¬
ductivity, he felt especially constrained to plead for a recognition of
the pervasive influences on productivity that stem from the scientist’s
own beliefs in the realm of the philosophy of science. He saw clearly
that even the most empirical scientist cannot avoid making assump¬
tions of a metaphysical and epistemological sort and that these
assumptions shape inevitably the nature of the descriptive concepts he
uses, the phenomena he observes, and the way he collects his data.
Although the papers in this volume touch on many topics, through¬
out all the discussions certain principles guide the development,
sometimes quite explicitly but sometimes less obviously. It may be
useful to examine briefly Lewin’s treatment of three of these more
basic issues. The first deals with the nature of constructs in social
science and the process of conceptualizing. The second concerns the
definition of the fundamental concept, "field.” The third opens up
problems of strategy concerning the proper balance, at any stage of
scientific development, between the construction of rigorous, formal
systems and the use of less exact, more popular concepts.
The Place of Constructs in Social Science
To Lewin the essential nature of the work of the scientist consists
of making a proper translation from phenomena to concepts. This
process of conceptualizing, he believes, contains within it some of the
most crucial problems faced by the scientist. In order to develop a
satisfactory system of concepts, the scientist has to be particularly
careful about the way in which he develops his concepts. Before a
system can be fully useful the concepts in it have to be defined in a
way that (i) permits the treatment of both the "qualitative” and
"quantitative” aspects of phenomena in a single system, (2) ade¬
quately represents the conditional-genetic (or causal) attributes of
phenomena, (3) facilitates the measurement (or operational defi¬
nition) of these attributes, and (4) allows both generalization to
universal laws and concrete treatment of the individual case.
^ Foreword
How can such powerful concepts be generated? Lewin found a
guide in the method of construction” first developed in mathe¬
matics:
To consider qualitatively different geometrical entities (such as circle,
square, parabola) as the product of a certain combination of certain
elements of construction” (such as points and movements) has since the
time of the Greeks been the secret of this method. It is sometimes called
the method of genetic definition.” It is able, at the same time, to link
and to separate; it does not minimize qualitative differences and still lays
open their relation to general quantitative variables. Cassirer has shown
how the same method proved to be fruitful in empirical sciences where
the elements of construction ' are mathematically described empirical
entities (such as forces, ions, atoms). [Chapter 2, page 32.]
In psychology and the social sciences it is necessary similarly to
develop appropriate "elements of construction” and ways of combin¬
ing these elements into a system of concepts. In Chapter 2 Lewin
presents a penetrating discussion of the problems involved in this
process. Of especial help to those working toward the development
of a system of concepts is the treatment in this chapter of the con¬
ceptual dimensions of constructs, for it is the dimensional character¬
istic of a construct that determines how it may be combined with
other constructs and how it may be measured. The significance and
practical value of this discussion have yet to be fully utilized by most
theorists in the human sciences.
This analysis of the nature of conceptualizing, though highly
abstract, is important for an understanding of Lewin’s work, because
it was in the concrete application of these principles that he made
some of his most significant contributions. The essence of much of
his most brilliant work consists of a conceptual analysis of the “na¬
ture” of phenomena which previously had had only popular labels.
Time and again Lewin took some popular notion, such as conflict,
frustration, or learning, and subjected it to a conceptual analysis
which consisted of ascertaining its elements of construction. Once
these were determined, phenomena which had long been thought
inaccessible to scientific treatment became fruitful topics of experi¬
mental research. And, as Lewin points out in Chapter 9, even the
"reality” attributed to them by scientists changed as a result of a
successful conceptual analysis of their nature. Examples of this
process recur throughout this volume, but especially noteworthy are
XI
Foreword
the treatment of "intention” (Chapter i), "frustration” (Chapter
2), "learning” (Chapter 4), "regression" (Chapter 5), "adoles¬
cence” (Chapter 6), "resistance to change” (Chapter 9), and the
classic analysis of "conflict” (reproduced in Chapter 10).
Definition of "Field”
The most fundamental construct for Lewin is, of course, that of
"field.” All behavior (including action, thinking, wishing, striving,
valuing, achieving, etc.) is conceived of as a change of some state
of a field in a given unit of time.
In treating individual
psychology, the field with which the scientist must deal is the "life
space of the individual. This life space consists of the person and
the psychological environment as it exists for him. In dealing with
group psychology or sociology, a similar formulation is proposed.
One may speak of the field in which a group or institution exists
with precisely the same meaning as one speaks of the individual life
space in individual psychology. The life space of a group, therefore,
consists of the group and its environment as it exists for the group.
It is the task of the scientist to develop constructs and techniques
of observation and measurement adequate to characterize the proper¬
ties of any given life space at any given time and to state the laws
governing changes of these properties.
In carrying out this task, it is necessary to determine specifically
what things are to be included in the representation of any given life
space at any particular time. This problem is equivalent to that of
determining criteria for attributing scientific "existence” or "reality”
to phenomena. It is also closely related to the problem of defining
the boundaries of a specific science, for it raises such questions as
What is a psychological fact, an economic fact, a political fact, etc..^”
In defining a given field, or life space, it is also important to charac¬
terize it so that the interdependence of its parts may be treated satis¬
factorily. Finally, there is the problem of specifying its location and
depth in time.
Existence. The life space is defined so that at any given time it
includes all facts that have existence and excludes those that do not
have existence for the individual or group under study. "Existence
for the individual or group” is given a pragmatic definition. Lewin
XU Foreword
chose to attribute existence to anything having demonstrable effects.
In individual psychology, the environment and the person as con¬
sciously perceived by the person are ordinarily included in the life
space. But, in addition, unconscious states are also included to the
extent that by direct observation or inference the scientist can deter¬
mine that they have effects. It is interesting to note that many of the
great discoveries of psychology have consisted essentially of a
demonstration of the existence in the life space of influences pre¬
viously not included. A notable example would be Freud’s "discov¬
ery” of unconscious influences.
In Chapters 3, 8, and 9 Lewin examines in some detail what should
be included within the life space of an individual. He indicates that
it is reasonably easy to decide to include many things, such as needs,
goals, cognitive structure, and the like, and to exclude many others,
such as physical and social events occurring at a remote distance and
having no direct effect on the individual. There is, however, a bound¬
ary zone of events and processes which are ordinarily thought of as
physical, economic, political, legal, etc., which, nonetheless, do have
direct effects upon individual behavior. Such events and processes
must be included within the life space of the individual. Many of
Lewin’s contributions to the understanding of human behavior con¬
sisted of showing that a wider and wider realm of determinants must
be treated as part of a single, interdependent field and that phe¬
nomena traditionally parceled out to separate "disciplines” must be
treated in a single coherent system of constructs. In the last few
months of his life, he was coming to recast considerably his concep¬
tion of motivation to emphasize "needs” less and to stress more such
determinants as group membership, personal ability, economic and
political resources, social channels, and other influences usually
omitted from psychological theories of motivation.
Interdependence. It is a basic assertion of field theory, and here
its close relation to Gestalt psychology is apparent, that the various
parts of a given life space are to some degree interdependent. It is
probable that nothing satisfying the criterion of existence in a given
life space can be completely independent of anything else in the same
life space. This interdependence of parts poses many special problems
in relation both to research methods and to conceptualizing. Problems
of both types interested Lewin immensely. In the Appendix to this
volume is presented his careful treatment in formal mathematical
Foreword
• « •
Xlll
terms of the concept of interdependence. He believed strongly that a
set of interdependent facts can be adequately handled conceptually
only with the mathematical concept of space and the dynamic con¬
cepts of tension and force. These points are developed to some degree
in virtually every chapter in this book. The methodological conse¬
quences of the interdependence of parts of the life space are elab¬
orated in Chapter 3 (where the interdependence of the size of unit
observed and the length of a unit of time is explored), in Chapter 7
(where the problems of observation and analysis of social events are
discussed), and in Chapter 10 (where many phenomena which must
be viewed as properties of an interdependent whole are described
in detail).
Contemporaneity, Lewin’s assertion that the only determinants
of behavior at a given time are the properties of the field at the same
time has caused more controversy than any of his other systematic
principles. This principle asserts that the life space endures through
time, is modified by events, and is a product of history, but only the
contemporaneous system can have effects at any time. The principle
of contemporaneity of causation seemed to many to be an attack upon
psychoanalytic theory, which asserts the extreme importance of early
childhood for later personality, and a denial of the efficacy of learn¬
ing. In fact, neither of these implications was intended. The discus¬
sion in Chapter 3 shows that the essential problem is twofold: one
of keeping concepts rigorous and the other of designing appropriate
research techniques. The discussion of regression in Chapter 5 pro¬
vides an excellent example of the gains to be derived from conceptual
rigor in regard to the time dimension. The useful distinction made
there between regression and retrogression is a result of this concern.
The methodological consequences of the principle of contemporaneity
are evident in the abstract discussion of anamnesis as a method of
determining an individual’s present state (Chapter 3) and in the
more detailed treatment of the problems of conducting research on
group culture and history (Chapter 7).
Formalization and Progress
The great emphasis placed by Lewin upon the formal properties
of scientific constructs and his insistence that the determinants of
human behavior can be represented in rigorous mathematical terms
XIV Foreword
have led some to exaggerate and misinterpret the significance that
he attached to formalization in the human Sciences. It is true that he
devoted great energy to such work as the development of "hodologi-
cal space (presented in The Conceptual Representation and the
Measurement of Psychological Forces) and to the mathematical treat¬
ment of differentiated wholes (presented in the Appendix to this
volume). It is also true that he believed that these parts of his work
would have a more lasting significance than many of his more em¬
pirically related studies. And yet his most basic attitude toward science
was a practical one, full of common sense, and he was fearful that an
enthusiasm for formal systems might lead to a substitution of mere
verbalisms for empirically descriptive theories.
In Chapter i, where he discusses the place of formalization in
scientific progress, there is revealed most vividly a man who views
his job mainly as that of taking the next possible step in solving the
puzzles that nature presents to him. His comparison of the scientific
enterprise to that of building ’’highways and superhighways” across
an undeveloped continent is compelling because it is so evident that
it was written by an expert builder who had tried out the whole vari¬
ety of possible tools of building and who therefore knew the value
and function of each. Formalization and mathematization, if pre¬
maturely done, he asserts, may lead us to the building of a logical
superhighway which turns out to be a "dead end leading nowhere.”
The essential wisdom of an experienced and productive scientist is
revealed in his summary statement: "Enthusiasm for Theory? Yes!
Psychology can use much of it. However, we will produce but an
empty formalism, if we forget that mathematization and formaliza¬
tion should be done only to the degree that the maturity of the mate¬
rial under investigation permits at a given time.” (Chapter i, p. i.)
The method of successive approximation, he maintains, is the key
to scientific productivity. He rarely gave advice to his students, but he
never hesitated to advise a young researcher, "Only ask the questions
in your research that you can answer with the techniques you can use.
If you can't learn to ignore the questions you are not prepared to
answer definitely, you will never answer any.”
This attitude resulted in his introduction of many "semipopular”
concepts which represented only modest steps toward rigorous con¬
ceptualization, but which inspired much research. Examples of this
Foreword
XV
sort are the concepts of level of aspiration, group decision, and gate¬
keeper. Other terms of a similar nature he borrowed from Freud
(among others) and proceeded to refine to a next higher level of
precision. Examples of this sort are his treatment of substitution,
conflict, and regression.
To those who worked closely with him it was repeatedly dramatized
how easily and spontaneously he moved from the practical, empirical,
and intuitive, to the abstract, rigorous, and formal. I recall vividly a
conversation with him shortly before his death in which we were
discussing technical problems of constructing an interview for an
action-research project on intergroup relations. Suddenly, in the midst
of phrasing a question, he interrupted himself with great enthusiasm
to say, "Within the next year we’ll be able really to measure psycho¬
logical forces." He was always striving for rigor and precision and he
made constant use of the formal constructs available, but he refused
to let formalization become an end in itself.
Many people who knew Kurt Lewin liave asked how much his
rich productivity derived from his theories and beliefs, and how
much it resulted simply from his keen sensitivity and clinical insight.
That he possessed unusual sensitivity cannot be denied. That his
warm and receptive personality contributed to his productivity is also
without question. It is my own conclusion, however, from a number
of years of close association with him that he was unusually produc¬
tive because he took seriously and practiced continuously the princi¬
ples of scientific thinking and methodology which he advocated in
the publications contained in this volume.
Kurt Lewin’s basic attitude toward science building is perhaps best
revealed in a passage where he describes the work of Ernst Cassirer,
a man to whom he felt a great intellectual indebtedness;
He discloses the basic character of science as the eternal attempt to go
beyond what is regarded scientifically accessible at any specific time. To
proceed beyond the limitations of a given level of knowledge the researcher
as a nile, has to break down methodological taboos which condemn as
unscientific" or "illogical" the very methods or concepts which later on
prove to be basic for the next major progress-^
Philosophy of Science and the Social Sciences, in Paul
Arthur Schilpp (Ed-): The Philosophy of Ernst Cassirer, p. 275. Evanston II] •
Library of Living Philosophers, 1949. ’
Preface
This is the second of two volumes of collected writings by ICurt
Lewin which are intended to bring together for convenient reading
a number of papers he published during the fifteen years he lived in
the United States. The two volumes are integrally related parts of
Lewin's total work and yet they contrast in their emphasis. While the
first. Resolving Social Conflicts, is oriented toward practical problems
of society, this second volume deals with more theoretical issues.
While in the first volume the emphasis is placed upon the building
of a better world, in this volume the concern is that of a scientist
attempting to construct a scientific system for understanding man and
society. More particularly the papers presented here discuss the work-
ing problems of the social scientist. His conceptual and methodologi¬
cal tools are the object of study.
This volume divides rather naturally into three major parts. The
first three chapters, together with the Appendix, constitute an exami¬
nation of several basic problems in the philosophy of science. They
set up certain guiding principles which serve as a basis for under¬
standing why the more specific problems in the following chapters
are treated as they are. The six following chapters take up these
principles and demonstrate their application to research in the fields
of learning, development and regression, social psychology and group
dynamics, and to research on selected problems of cultural anthropol¬
ogy, sociology, and economics. The final chapter constitutes an
excellent, though concise, summary of the major theoretical and
substantive findings derived from the research carried out under his
immediate supervision.
These two volumes, together with A Dynamic Theory of Person¬
ality, Principles of Topological Psychology, and The Conceptual Rep¬
resentation and the I\/ieasurement of Psychological Forces, now make
readily available to the English reader a good coverage of the major
writings of Kurt Lewin. There remain untranslated, however, several
xvit
XVlll
Preface
important contributions which appeared in German, and it is to be
hoped that these may soon be made available. In a real sense, too,
much of his work remains scattered throughout the many journals
and monographs where his students and colleagues published research
in which his contribution was unmistakable. His modest insistence
that he not be listed as a co-author of these publications resulted in
an imperfect reflection of his role in most of this research. Those
wishing to study fully Lewin's work are referred to the bibliographi¬
cal references at the end of the various chapters (especially Chapter
lo), to the long series of studies that he edited for the Psychologhche
Forschung, and to the series of monographs. Studies in Topological
and Vector Psychology^ contained in the University of Iowa Studies
in Child Welfare.
Editing this volume has been a gratifying task. It has been a rare
intellectual experience to discover the essential coherence that the
various papers collected here possess. It has been literally thrilling
to see the systematic and integrated structure emerge from the mere
bringing together of long familiar publications not before read in
immediate sequence. For the most part it has been possible to leave
the single papers without editorial modification. Certain duplication
had to be omitted here and there and certain transitional paragraphs
had to be supplied, but the material was written almost as though
it had been intended for publication in a single volume. The only
substantial modification of form is found in respect to Chapters 2,
7, and 8. In Chapter 7, "Problems of Research in Social Psychology,"
are presented excerpts from Lewin's presidential address before the
Society for the Psychological Study of Social Issues and a section
from the paper, "Constructs in Psychology and Psychological Ecol¬
ogy” (the bulk of which appears as Chapter 2). In Chapter 8,
"Psychological Ecology," Lewin's theory of social channels is pre¬
sented. Since he developed this theory in three separate places, the
editorial problem consisted of bringing together from these sources
a single and complete statement of this theory. It proved to be pos¬
sible to extract a coherent presentation from the much longer treat¬
ment, "Forces behind food habits and methods of change.” Certain
brief sections are also included from "Constructs in psychology and
psychological ecology” and from "Frontiers in group dynamics, II.”
(More specific reference to these sources is given below.)
XIX
Preface
We are greatly indebted to the publishers of the original papers
for permission to print them here. Below are listed the original
sources of each of the chapters.
Chapter i. Formalization and progress in psychology. University
of Iowa Studies in Child V^elfare, 1940, r6. No. 3, 9-42. Reprinted
by permission of Iowa Child Welfare Research Station.
Chapter 2. Constructs in psychology and psychological ecology,
University of Iowa Studies in Child Welfare, 1944, 20, 1-29. Re¬
printed by permission of Iowa Child Welfare Research Station.
Chapter 3. Defining the ‘'field at a given time,” Psychological Re¬
view, 1943, 30, 292-310. Reprinted by permission of the Psychologi¬
cal Review and of the American Psychological Association.
Chapter 4. Field theory of learning, Yearbook of the National
Society for the Study of Education, 1942, 41, part II, 215-242. Re¬
printed by permission of the Society.
Chapter 5. Regression, Retrogression, and Development (Chap¬
ter I), Frustration and Regression by Roger Barker, Tamara Dembo,
and Kurt Lewin. University of Iowa Studies in Child Welfare, 1941,
18, No. 1, 1-43. Reprinted by permission of Iowa Child Welfare
Research Station. The co-authors have informed the editor that Dr.
Lewin was the author of this chapter and of the appendix.
Chapter 6. Field theory and experiment in social psychology: con¬
cepts and methods, American Journal of Sociology, 1939, 44, 868-
897. Reprinted by permission of the University of Chicago Press.
Chapter 7. Psychology and the process of group living, Journal of
Social Psychology, 1943, 77, 113-131. Reprinted by permission of
The Journal Press. Constructs in psychology and psychological ecol¬
ogy, University of Iowa Studies in Child Welfare, 1944, 20, 23-27.
Reprinted by permission of the Iowa Child Welfare Research Station.
Chapter 8. Forces behind food habits and methods of change.
Bulletin of the National Research Council, 1943, 108, 35-65. Re¬
printed by permission of the National Research Council. Constructs
in psychology and psychological ecology. University of Iowa Studies
in Child Welfare, 1944, 20, 17-20. Reprinted by permission of the
Iowa Child ^X^elfare Research Station. Frontiers in group dynamics,
II, Human Relations. 1947, /, 143-133. Reprinted by permission of
Human Relations.
XX
Preface
Chapter 9. Frontiers in group dynamics, Human Relations, 1947,
I, 2-38. Reprinted by permission of Human Relations,
Chapter 10. Behavior and development as a function of the total
situation. Reprinted by permission from Manual of Child Psychology^
by L, Carmichael, published by John Wiley & Sons, Inc., copyright
1946.
Appendix. Analysis of the concepts whole, differentiation, and
unity, University of Iowa Studies in Child Welfare, 1941, 18, No. i,
226-261. Reprinted by permission of the Iowa Child Welfare Re¬
search Station.
I wish to express here my great debt to Dr. Albert Pepitone who
helped immeasurably in all phases of editing this volume.
Dorwin Cartwright
Ann Arbor, Michigan
June 15, 1950
I
Formalization and Progress
in Psychology
(1940)
I
I N RECENT years there has been a very marked change in the
attitude of American psychology. During the 1920’s and early
1930 s psychologists were, on the whole, rather adverse to theory.
Governed by a naive metaphysical belief, they were apt to consider
fact finding” the only task of "scientific” psychology, and were
particularly skeptical of the idea of psychological laws in the fields
of needs, will, and emotion, that is, in fields other than perception
and memory.
Today, a definite interest in psychological theory has emerged, due
partly to the efforts of a few psychologists (particularly Tolman and
Hull in animal psychology). The need for a closer fusion of the
various branches of psychology demands tools which permit better
integration. The practical tasks of mental hygiene and education
demand conceptual tools which permit prediction. Neither demand
can be met without theory.
Now, however, it seems necessary to point to certain dangers of
theorizing. Enthusiasm for Theory? Yes! Psychology can use much
of it. However, we will produce but an empty formalism, if we
forget that mathematization and formalization should be done only
to the degree that the maturity of the material under investigation
permits at a given time.
Philosophically, there seems to exist only an "either-or”: if scien¬
tific facts and particularly all so-called dynamic facts are not merely
"given data," but inseparably interwoven with theoretical assump-
X
2 Field Theory in Social Science
tions, there seems to be no choice other than to base every statement
in psychology on theoretical assumptions.
For the psychologist, as an empirical scientist, the situation looks
rather different. He finds himself in the midst of a rich and vast land
full of strange happenings: there are men killing themselves; a child
playing; a child forming his lips trying to say his first word; a person
who having fallen in love and being caught in an unhappy situation
is not willing or not able to find a way out; there is the mystical state
called hypnosis, where the will of one person seems to govern another
person; there is the reaching out for higher, and more difficult goals;
loyalty to a group; dreaming; planning; exploring the world; and
so on without end. It is an, immense continent full of fascination and
power and full of stretches of land where no one ever has set foot.
Psychology is out to conquer this continent, to find out where its
treasures are hidden, to investigate its danger spots, to master its vast
forces, and to utilize its energies.
How can one reach this goal? At first, in what might be called the
''speculative epoch,*’ the attempt was made to dig down deep into
the ground. A peculiar something was reported to lie underground
as the hidden source of energy. One gave it the name '’association.”
New investigators drove their shafts down at somewhat different
places. They found something different which they called "instinct.”
A third group of explorers reported a different entity, "libido.” And
all claimed to have found the foundation on which the land rested.
By this time, psychologists had become rather tired of the various
claims. It had become clear that the continent was much larger than
was suspected at first. Perhaps there was more than one source of
energy. The whole depth-sounding process had become rather open
to suspicion, particularly since no explorer seemed able to bring his
■naterial up to the surface for inspection in broad daylight. How was
one ever to prove a real connection between the entities supposedly
existing underground and what was going on at the surface? There,
open to all eyes, and unquestionable, interesting phenomena pre¬
sented themselves. The psychologist now turned to extensive travel¬
ing over the surface of the continent, eager to find new phenomena,
to describe them exactly, to count and to measure them, to register
their growth.
This procedure, however, did not prove altogether satisfactory
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 3
either. After all, what the psychologist observed were human beings.
Children needed help and education; delinquent people needed guid¬
ance; people in distress wanted cure. Counting, measuring, and clas¬
sifying their sorrows did not help matters much. Obviously one had
to go to the facts "behind,” "below the surface.” How to accomplish
this without the fallacies of the speculative epoch.^ That is the domi¬
nant methodological question of psychology today, at the beginning
of its "Galilean period.”
The answer is something like this: to make oneself master of the
forces of this vast scientific continent one has to fulfill a rather
peculiar task. The ultimate goal is to establish a network of highways
and superhighways, so that any important point may be linked easily
with any other. This network of highways will have to be adapted to
the natural topography of the country and will thus itself be a mirror
of its structure and of the position of its resources.
The construction of the highway system will have to be based
partly upon assumptions which cannot be expected to be fully correct.
The test drilling in exploring the deposits will not always lead to
reliable results. Besides, there is a peculiar paradox in the conquering
of a new continent, and even more so in that of a new scientific field.
To make the proper tests, some machinery has to be transported, and
such transportation presupposes more or less the same road, the con¬
struction of which is contingent upon the outcome of the test. In
other words, to find out what one would like to know one should, in
some way or other, already know it.
What should science do to resolve this paradox? If it is wise, it
follows the same procedure used in a systematic exploration of the
resources of a new land: small paths are pushed out through the
unknown; with simple and primitive instruments, measurements are
made; much is left to assumption and to lucky intuition. Slowly cer¬
tain paths are widened; guess and luck are gradually replaced by
experience and systematic exploration with more elaborate instru¬
ments. Finally highways are built over which the streamlined vehicles
of a highly mechanized logic, fast and efficient, can reach every im¬
portant point on fixed tracks.
By and large, the actual development of a science seems to follow
this general pattern. Yet frequently somebody, thinking he knows
where an important treasure lies, tries to build a superhighway
4 Field Theory in Social Science
straight to this point without regard for the natural structure of the
country. Much enthusiasm and work are put into such roadbuiJding,
but after some time it becomes apparent that this superhighway is a
dead end leading nowhere.
Formalization and mathematization in psychology, if prematurely
done, may lead us to the building of such logical superhighways.
Formalization will have to be achieved if psychology is to become an
acceptable science, and psychology can and must take definite steps
in that direction now. However, the promising beginning and the
growing interest for such undertaking will soon turn into disappoint¬
ment if certain dangers, arising partly from recent trends in philos¬
ophy and logic, are not frankly discussed and avoided.
I feel somewhat obliged to take this matter up, because two of my
books^ deal mainly with the conceptual tools of psychology. Some of
the critics, who did not realize that these conceptual tools have been
used for several years in a great number of investigations in a variety
of fields, seem to have concluded that my main interest in psychology
is formalization or mathematization. Nothing can be more erroneous.
As psychologists we are interested in finding new knowledge about,
and deeper insight into, psychological processes. That is, and always
has been, the guiding principle. Theory, mathematization, and for¬
malization are tools for this purpose. Their value for psychology
exists only in so far as they serve as a means to fruitful progress in its
subject matter, and they should be applied, as complex tools always
should, only when and where they help and do not hinder progress,
II
Some psychologists interested in "strict logical derivations” have
criticized our experimental work for not being written in the form:
(a) definition, (b) assumption, (c) conclusion. On the other hand,
French^ writes:
In the course of fifty years [psychoanalysis] has developed an extensive
system of scientific concepts but the concepts have grown step by step as
a necessary and inevitable product of Freud’s attempt to orient himself in
»Principles of Topological Psychology (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co.,
1936); The conceptual representation and the measurement of psychological forces,
Corttr!psychol. theor., 1938. r. No. 4, Duke University Press.
* Thomas M. French: A review of A Dynamic Theory of Personality and The
Principles of Topological Psychology, by Kurt Lewin. In Psychoanalytic Quarterly,
1937. 6, 122-128.
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 5
a bewildering chaos of psychological facts that no one previously had
been able to understand. Due to close contact of these new concepts with
the facts, one set of concepts was devised to explain one set of facts and
a new problem would give rise to an entirely new set of concepts. . . .
Topological psychology on the other hand starts with a self-consistent
mathematical discipline and then goes to look for facts to fit it. [P. 127.3
As an answer I may be permitted to survey the actual historical
development. My work in psychology began with experiments on
association and the determinierende TendenzJ* The intention was
not to criticize associationism but rather to refine the measurement
of the "strength of the will" as developed by Ach. His work at that
time, I believe, was the most precise theoretically in the field of will
and association. After three years of experimentation with hundreds
of series of nonsense syllables, and after thousands of measurements
of reaction times (at that time one had to measure in i/iooo sec¬
onds) I became convinced that there was no point in trying to
improve the exactness of this measurement. The attempts were all
based on the assumption of the classical law of association as stated,
e.g., by G. E. Muller. The experiments however seemed to prove
conclusively, contrary to my expectation, that this assumption had to
be abandoned or decidedly modified. It was necessary to distinguish
two rather different types of habits (associations) : "need habits”
(like alcoholism) and "execution habits” (like pulling a lever up
rather than down). The first type represents a "tension” (source of
energy), a need such as hunger, which demands satisfaction either
directly or through substitution. The execution habit, on the other
hand, is in itself no source of action. It is equivalent to a pattern of
restraining forces determining a certain path. Without a need or
quasi-need the execution habit does not lead to action.
After an interruption due to the first World War, a systematic
attempt was made to test the positive assumption growing out of
this criticism of the law of association. The first step was an attempt
to achieve a more precise conceptual analysis. Dynamically, an "asso¬
ciation” is something like a link in a chain, i.e., a pattern of restrain¬
ing forces without intrinsic tendency to create a change. On the other
hand, the tendency to bring about action is basic to a need. This
property of a need or quasi-need can be represented by coordinating
*Kurt Lewin. Die psychische Tatigkeit bei der Hemmung von Willensorgangen
und das Grundgesetz der Assoziation, Ztschr. f. Psychol.^ 1917, 77, 212-247.
6
Field Theory in Social Science
it to a system in tension/’ By taking this construct seriously and
using certain operational definitions, particularly by correlating the
"release of tension” to a "satisfaction of the need” (or the "reaching
of the goal”) and the "setting up of tension” to an "intention” or
to a "need in a state of hunger,” a great number of testable conclu¬
sions were made possible.
After these basic conclusions had been proved valid, mainly
through the experiments of Zeigarnik^ and Ovsiankina,® the theory
was expanded to include problems like psychological satiation, sub¬
stitution on the reality and irreality level and in play situations, the
measurement of substitute value, the level of aspiration, its shift after
success and failure, the effect of distance from the goal upon the
strength of psychological forces; in short, the pattern of goals and
needs, their interrelation, and the ways of satisfying them, were
studied. Today, a multitude of problems including personality and
personality development, cognitive structure, social and cultural rela¬
tions are being attacked with a set of related concepts.
If one looks through our publications in the order that they have
been published one will, I think, agree that the various theoretical
assumptions and constructs have been developed rather slowly step
by step. The assumptions were made rather tentatively at first and
with a fair amount of hesitation. Only to the degree that more and
more empirical facts could be brought together experimentally, the
theory gained in firmness and more specific statements emerged.
This gradual elaboration based on empirical facts and a great
variety of experiments holds true particularly for the mathematical
aspects of the theory. The application of topological and vector con¬
cepts was first made in a way which left it open whether we had to
deal merely with a pedagogical device or rather with a real scientific
representation. Only to the extent that these conceptual tools proved
to be valuable in formulating problems, and permitting derivations
which could be tested experimentally, did they become essential parts
of the theory and of its dynamic constructs.
French’s criticisms of the Principles of Topological Psychology
Zeigarnik: Uber das behalten von erledigten und unerledigten Handlungen,
Psychol. Pofsch., i 9 i 7 , 9 » i* 85 *
®M. Ovsiankina; Die Wiederaufnahme von unterbrochenen Handlungen, Psychol.
Forsch., 1928, //, 302-389.
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 7
overlook the fact that this first attempt at a systematic survey of the
conceptual tools used in our research was not made till after many
years of empirical work with them. What French says about the
gradual growth of psychoanalytic concepts out of psychological facts
can as well be said in regard to the use of topological and vector con¬
cepts in held theory. As a matter of fact, the feeling for the necessity
of rather slow and careful theorization was the main reason which
restrained us from using strict, so-called formalistic derivations in
those early experimental studies. That does not mean that I con¬
sidered those derivations to be not fully stringent or that I did not
esteem the value of a mathematical logical language which I had
found very helpful when treating problems of comparative theory
of science.® However, it would have been premature to present cer¬
tain ideas "more geometrico” i.e., by setting forth so-called formal
definitions, assumptions, and deductions without being able to do so
in well-defined mathematical symbols, in the form of equations or
similar representations of functional dependence. If one uses terms
of everyday language such as "frustration," "need," "learning" with¬
out being able to coordinate mathematical entities to them, one might
as well use the normal form of reasoning. To present statements
employing amathematical constructs "more geometrico" suggests a
degree of exactness of derivation which, I am afraid, cannot generally
be reached with those types of constructs. This holds true even when
these conceptually rather vague constructs are operationally well de¬
fined. We will come back to this point later.
One can go even one step further. The dynamic constructs used
for example in the study of Zeigarnik may be said to be already of
that type which readily lends itself to a strict mathematical repre¬
sentation. However, we felt that it would be wiser to wait with the
formalistic representation until these constructs had proved more
thoroughly to be empirically fruitful. A too high degree of formaliza¬
tion is likely to endanger this plasticity.
Psychology cannot try to explain everything with a single con¬
struct, such as association, instinct, or gestalt. A variety of constructs
has to be used. These should be interrelated, however, in a logically
precise manner. Moreover, every theoretical statement brought forth
® l-ewin; Der Begriff der Genese in Physik, Biologic, und Enttvicklungsge^
schschte (Berlin: Springer* 1922).
8
Field Theory in Social Science
to explain certain empirical data should be carefully examined not
only in the light of these data but in the light of the totality of em¬
pirical data and theoretical statements of psychology. In other words
ad hoc theories should be avoided. Bringing together the total field
of psychology and doing that in a logically consistent manner might
well be viewed as one of the basic purposes of our approach. The
demand for a new level of precision in regard to the conceptual
properties of the constructs, with a view to an ultimately strictly
mathematical representation, is but a means to this end. On the other
hand, it has been realized that without such mathematization the
development of a consistent scientific psychology is impossible in the
long run.
Ill
Occasionally criticisms have been made that the number of sub¬
jects in some of our experiments was not sufficiently large. It is prob¬
able that, in one or the other experiment, a greater number of cases
would have added to the reliability; and, of course, additional con¬
firmation is always desirable. But, where other investigators have
repeated our experiments in a competent manner, our results have
stood up very well on the whole. Besides, different types of confirma¬
tion are most desirable for different types of questions. For instance,
if one wishes to find out how the frequency of resumption depends
upon the point at which an activity has been interrupted one will have
to use a relatively great number of cases to get reliable results, for the
problem involved is how within one situation a gradual quantitative
change of one factor changes another factor quantitatively. In such
cases the problem of the exactness of measurement is paramount and
therefore a great number of cases is important.
Take, on the other hand, such questions as whether the effect of
an intention is that of a link (association) or the creation of a quasi¬
need (equivalent to a tension system). If the latter theory is correct,
one should expect a fair number of resumptions after interruption.
The study of about one hundred interruptions by Ovsiankina shows
indeed 8o per cent of resumption. There is some merit in trying
another group of one hundred interruptions. If, however, this group
again shows about 8o per cent of resumption, one can follow two
lines. Either one tries to determine the actual percentage of resump-
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 9
tion as accurately as possible, or one is mainly interested in the ques¬
tion whether the effect of an intention can be adequately understood
as the creation of a tension system. For the latter question it is at
present of minor importance whether the percentage of resumption
is 75, 80, or 85, because any of these figures would be in line with
the general assumption. To prove or disprove the theory of tension
systems, it seems much more important to find a variety of derivations
from this theory which should be as different as possible from each
other, and to test as many as possible of these derivations, even if
this test should be rather crude quantitatively at the beginning.
rv
It might be well to illustrate this point by reviewing in detail the
first experimental study of the above-mentioned series, viz., the ex¬
periments of Zeigarnik, which were carried out in the years 1924 to
1926 about the recall of finished and unfinished actions. Let us re¬
peat some of Zeigarnik’s derivations making use, however, of the
formal apparatus of symbols and equations which has been developed
in the meantime.
The Basic Assumptions and the Main Derivation
The critical experiments about association and “the measurement
of will power” mentioned above had suggested the theory that the
effect of an intention was equivalent to the creation of an inner per¬
sonal tension. The purpose of Zeigarnik’s experiment was to provide
a first experimental test of this theory. The theory contains two basic
assumptions.
(Ai) Assumption j: The intention to reach a certain goal G (to
carry out an action leading to Cr) corresponds to a tension (t) \Ti z. certain
system (S°) within the person so that t(S^) > o. This assumption co¬
ordinates a dynamic construct (system in tension) with the observable
syndrome popularly called “intention."
(A2) Assumption 2: The tension t(S°) is released if the goal G is
reached.
t(S<^) = o if Pc G
Zeigarnik uses as a symptom for the existence of the tension the
lo Field Theory in Social Science
tendency to recall activities corresponding to the system in tension.
The expectation of the existence of such a system is based on the
following:
(A3) Assumption 3; To a need for G corresponds a force fpo acting
upon the person and causing a tendency of locomotion toward G.
if t(SG) > o fp o > o
This assumption determines the relation between need and locomotion. In
other words it means a construct of tension in the person and the construct
of force for locomotion in the environment.
Assumptions (Ai), (A2), and (A3) are rather general in nature
and have been used as basic assumptions for a great variety of de¬
ductions and experimentation. [It may be possible to eliminate (A3)
to a certain degree and to replace it by a combination of (Ai) and
(A2). One could say without formally introducing the construct of
force for locomotion that i( t(S^) >0 there should result according
to (A2) a tendency to change the life space so that t(S°) = o. We
prefer, however, to state (A3) as a separate assumption.]
(A3a) Assumption ^a: A need leads not only to a tendency of actual
locomotion towards the goal region but also to thinking about this type
of activity; in other words the force fp^Q exists not only on the level of
doing (reality) but also on the level of thinking (irreality) ;
if t(S°) > o > o
where R means recall.
This last assumption of Zeigarnik is more specific in character. It
can be viewed as a specialization of (A3), For the derivations of
Zeigarnik this specific form (A3a) rather than (A3) is needed.
From the three assumptions (Ai), (A2), and (A3a) follows:
(Di) Derivation i: The tendency to recall interrupted activities should
be greater than the tendency to recall finished ones. This derivation can
be made as follows. We indicate the completed task by C, the unfinished
one by U, and the corresponding systems by 5 "® and S’" respectively. We
can then state
(a) t(S^)>o according to (Ai)
(b) t(S^) = o according to (A2)
Hence (c) fp,a > fp.c according to (A3a), on the level of
thinking. In other words: there is a greater tendency to recall spontaneously
unfinished tasks than finished tasks.
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 11
Experimental Proof: The first objective of Zeigarnik was to test experi¬
mentally this conclusion and it was found to be correct, the quotient
recalled unfinished tasks = RU , . . ,
recalled completed tasks = RC approx.mately. Experimerna
where certain tasks were first interrupted but later on allowed to be finished
served to prove that it is not the experiences connected with the. inter¬
ruption itself which are the cause of this result but the reaching or not
reaching of the goal. In this experiment the recall was not more frequent
than in the case of tasks completed without interruption.
After this main conclusion has been found to be true tw'o pro¬
cedures are open. One can feel that one has done enough for the
proof of the main assumption and can go into more exact quantitative
measurements, or one can try to find new independent derivations
from the basic assumptions and test these experimentally with the
purpose of corroborating them. Zeigarnik embarked mainly upon
the second alternative.
Field Theoretical Implications of the Construct "Tension ”
Using the construct of a "system in tension” for representing
psychological needs definitely presupposes a field theory. Conceptu¬
ally, tension refers to the state of one system relative to the state of
surrounding systems. The essence and the purpose of this construct
is to include a tendency for change in the direction of equalization of
the state of neighboring systems. The construct, therefore, presup¬
poses a geometric representation of the person and a distinction of
functional subparts or "systems” within the person, with a definite
position in regard to each other. This is but an elaboration of the
conceptual properties already implied in the construct tension. For-
malistically, one can express the basic relation between neighboring
tension systems in the following way:
) ff 2nd bgi • o, a tendency exists to change so
that tfS^J =z t(S^). In this formula bg^ and bg^ indicate the boundacies
of the systems and 5 *. bgx * their common part.
The construct tension furthermore presupposes definite assump¬
tions as to the dynamic character of this field, e.g., if the systerns
corresponding to different needs or quasi-needs should be able to
12
Field Theory in Social Science
maintain diiferent amounts of tension during a certain period, one
will have to assume that this field is not too fluid. If it should'be a
very fluid field, any differences between the tension levels of the
various systems would be found to disappear in a very short time
because of the fact that the tendency of e<]ualization resulting from
the local tensions would not meet any resistance; in other words, if
a quasi-need is coordinated to a tension system which may show its
effect even over a considerable time interval, one has to assume that
dynamically the person cannot be considered as entirely fluid. On the
other hand, a person cannot be regarded as entirely rigid. Otherwise,
the effect which one need has on other needs and on the tension level
of the person as a whole could not be accounted for. A person, there¬
fore, has to be conceived of as having a medium degree of fluidity in
regard to the intercommunication of his tension systems. It is clear
that this degree of fluidity may vary from person to person and from
situation to situation for a single person. Assuming the constancy of
the structural relations of a given set of systems (and assuming a
temporarily impermeable boundary surrounding the set as a whole),
one can express this statement in the following way:
(C2) Let us indicate the absolute difference between the tension t(S'^)
and the tension t(S^) of two neighboring systems and at the time
the tensions are being built up by \t(S^) the time since then
elapsed by Ti, the tension difference at this time by and
the fluidity by fl. Then we can state
\rrsy — — tfs^)\Ti = FfTi, fij
where F symbolizes a monotonously increasing function.
This means: the change in the tension difference of neighboring systems
depends upon the time interval and the fluidity. Of course, this holds true
Only if the tensions of these systems are not changed by other factors such
as e.g. release of tension by reaching the goal.
As far as I can see, (Ci) and (C2) are necessary conceptual ele¬
ments of the construct tension. The coordination of needs and quasi¬
needs to this construct tension, therefore, makes it possible to derive
a number of facts which may seem rather remote from the problem
primarily investigated. These predictions could hardly be made with¬
out this specific dynamic theory, and therefore if they can be proved
they are of particular value for the confirmation of the theory.
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 13
Derivations in Regard to the Fluidity of the Field and the
Communication Between Tension Systems
(D2) The difference in tension between systems corresponding to
unfinished and finished tasks decreases with the time interval elapsed since
the creation of the tension system.
Derivation: Follows immediately from the right side of the equation
(C2) by means of (Ai) and (A3a).
Experimental Proof: The Zeigarnik quotient decreases from about 1.9
to about 1.2 if the recall test has been postponed one day.
If we are correct in assuming that the maintenance of a tension
difference between the partial systems of an individual depends upon
a sufficient rigidity of the medium, a quicker decrease of tension could
occur if the person is more fluid. To prove this conclusion experi¬
mentally, Zeigarnik had to find a state which could reasonably be
characterized as increased fluidity (jl). The general symptoms of
fatigue seem to justify
(A4) Assumption 4: fl (P tired) > fi (,P nontired).
RU
(D3) The Zeigarnik quotient is smaller for tired than for nontired
RCr
subjects.
Derivation: It follows immediately from the denominator in (C2) by
means of (Ai), (A3a), and (A4).
Experimental Proof: Subjects who were tired during performance and
recall yielded a quotient of .7; those tired during performance but not
during recall, a quotient of .6; those not tired during performance but
tired during recall, i.o. This threefold variation was made because a fluid
state of a person might prevent the building up of any considerable tension
difference. The last variation shows that even if the tension has been
built up in a nontired state, the quotient becomes smaller if the subject is
tired during recall. (The problem of the quotient being smaller than i
is accounted for by factors not discussed here; they are discussed by
Zeigarnik in her paper.)
Several experimental data and other observations suggest that the
levels of greater irreality (levels of wishes and dreams) have to be
considered as more fluid than the level of reality (level of action).
From this it would follow that needs and quasi-needs related to these
14 Field Theory in Social Science
more irreal levels should show a cjuicker diffused discharge of ten
sion.
(A5) Assumption fl = F (degree of irreality).
(D4) The rate of decrease of the Zeigarnik quotient, within a given
time interval, increases with the degree of irreality of activities involved.
/^\o / RU
Rc) ~~ \ RC
~F (degree of irreality).
Derivation: (D4) follows immediately from (C2) in connection with
(Ai), (A3a). and (A5).
Experimental Proof: Brown"^ has shown that the ability to recall inter¬
rupted ''irreal*’ activities decreases faster than the ability to recall the more
“real*’ ones. (It is possible that the experiment of Brown does not deal
with differences in the degree of reality but rather with differences between
more peripheral activities as against more central ones on approximately
the same level of reality. In this case, his experiment would show that
the more peripheral region of a person has to be regarded as more fluid.)
One way to destroy the differences of tension in the various sys¬
tems of the inner personal region seems to be the creation of a high
emotional tension or, more specifically, a quick shift up and down
of strong emotional tension. The bringing up of the general emo¬
tional tension within a person to a magnitude of a different order
than that corresponding to the relatively weak quasi-needs created
in these experiments would, one might expect, equalize these tensions
or at least make their differences practically negligible. A sudden
change up and down of such a magnitude might well destroy quite a
number of walls between the systems or bring about another process
equivalent to their dedifferentiation and equalize the tensions in this
way. As the constructs of “permeability” and elasticity are not
elaborate enough at present to warrant a formalistic representation we
prefer to give this statement in verbal form:
(A6) Assumption 6: Strong waves of emotional tension destroy tension
differences corresponding to relatively superficial needs.
(D5) The Zeigarnik quotient ^ after an emotional excitement and
xvC
•'let down” is smaller than without such a process intervening between
performance and recall.
’ J. F. Brown: Ober die dynamische Eigenshaften der Realitats und Irrealitats-
schichten, Psychol. Forsch.. i 933 i rff, 143—190.
15
Formalization and Progress in Psychology
Derivation: It follows from (A6), (Ai), and (A3a).
Experimental Proof: After experimentally created emotional waves
the 2 ieigarnik quotient decreases to .6. A similarly low quotient of .75 is
shown by those subjects who have been emotionally excited during the
experiments as a result of their general life situation.
As a last example in this group of derivations which are based
mainly on the spatial relations between the various systems and on
their amount of communication, we mention the following: A con¬
dition for a difference between the systems corresponding to finished
and unfinished tasks is that the systems corresponding to each indi¬
vidual task in the experiment are set up from the beginning as suffi¬
ciently separated within the person. For if these various systems are
subparts of one comprehensive unit without much separation no great
difference in tension can persist. In this case there may be differences
in the tension levels of those greater units but no differences between
the various subsystems within the larger units. That sufficiently strong
boundaries between the systems are a prerequisite for the persistence
of tension is already contained in (Ci) and (C2) .
RU
The Zeigarnik quotient - should be about i if 5 *“ and 5 ® are
RC
not sufficiently separated.
Derivation: Follows directly from (Ci) and (C2) in connection with
(Ai) and (A^a).
Experimental Proof: A larger unit in which the single tasks, no matter
whether finished or unfinished, are not much separated, can be created by
the setting up of a cognitive structure at the beginning of the experiment,
according to which the single tasks appear as parts of a more highly
unified series. In such settings the quotient was found to be about .97.
Derivation in Regard to Intensity of Quasi-needs
One can elaborate our basic assumption (Ai) about the relation
between psychological needs and tension systems by correlating the
intensity of the tension to the intensity of the need.
(Ala) Assumption (Aia): t(S^) z= F(n^) where n^ means the inten¬
sity of the need correlated to the goal G.
Correspondingly, we can elaborate the basic assumption (A3)
i6 Field Theory in Social Science
and (A3a) concerning the relation between tension and force for
locomotion and recall into a quantitative relation.
(A3b) Assumption (A^b): |/p, o| = where |/p, o| means the
strength of the force in the direction of locomotion or recall.
RU
(Pi) --- = Fr««;
Derivation: (D7) follows from (Aia), (A3a), and (A3b).
Experimental Proof: It is to be expected that subjects who are par¬
ticularly ambitious will show quasi-needs of a greater intensity than the
average subject, whereas subjects whose involvement in the activities is
particularly weak should have particularly weak quasi-needs. Zeigarnik has
grouped separately those subjects who according to their general behavior
in the experiment could be characterized as '’ambitious" (without regard
to the Zeigarnik quotient.) She found that their quotient showed a value
of 2.75 as against 1.9 for the average kind of subject. On the other hand,
a group of subjects who merely did "what the experimenter told them"
without getting personally involved showed a quotient of 1.03, much less
than the average. According to Zeigarnik the most seriously involved group
of subjects were children. Indeed, their quotient shows a value of 2.5. It
may be that there are other factors which contribute to this result. Marrow®
has attacked the problem of the relation between the intensity of the need
and the Zeigarnik quotient in a particularly careful way. He compares the
control group of subjects with another group in a situation of competition.
He still further sharpens this competition either by praise or by blame.
Although he uses a different type of activity, the Zeigarnik quotient of the
control group was again 1.9, whereas in the situation of competition,
where the need of the subject is very much intensified, the Zeigarnik quo¬
tient went up decidedly, in the case of encouragement to 2.17, in the case
of blame to 2.10. Marrow showed that the Zeigarnik quotient was par¬
ticularly high for those tasks which directly followed after the experience
of praise or blame by the experimenter.
Derivations in Regard to Psychological as Against Non-
PSYCHOLOGICAL CHARACTERIZATION OF TASKS
It is a general presupposition of psychological field theory that one
has to be careful to use psychological rather than "objective" soci¬
ological or physical categories. There are cases where an activity
®A. J. Marrow; Goal tensions and recall (I Sc II), /. Gen. Psychol., 1938, i 9 >
3-35; 37-^4.
Formalization and Progress tn Psychology 17
might be finished from the subject’s point of view although it might
be classified as interrupted by the experimenter. On the other hand,
there are outwardly finished activities which psychologically are
unfinished for the subject.
According to (Aa) the release of tension is coordinated to the
reaching of the goal and this reaching of the goal has to be under¬
stood psychologically. From this follows:
(D8)
RV
RC
= I if P
G at the time of ’’interruption.”
Derivation: This follows directly from (A2) in connection with (Ai)
and (A3a).
Experimental Proof: Zeigarnik reports a number of specific cases of
outwardly unfinished, psychologically finished activities where the quotient
was about i. Marrow used a special experimental setup where the subject
was told that the experimenter was merely interested in finding our
whether or not the subject was able to carry out the task and that he
would interrupt as soon as he had received this impression. Thus, the in¬
terrupted task here psychologically appears finished. Marrow found indeea
that the Zeigarnik quotient in this case was .74.
We might mention here the difference between continuous and
end tasks. The end tasks such as making a chair out of plasticine or
writing a poem have a rather well-defined end, so that in the case of
interruption the subject has definitely not reached the goal, whereas
by finishing he has reached it. In this case the Zeigarnik quotient is
decidedly greater than i, viz,, 1.8. In the case of a continuous task,
however, such as putting beads on a string, the subject does not reach
a definite goal after "finishing" nor does he definitely get outside
the goal region if interrupted." Therefore the tension in those cases
should not be very much different. Indeed, the Zeigarnik quotient
is 1.1. (The low values of both and found by Zeigarnik show
that the continuous task, no matter whether outwardly interrupted or
finished, is psychologically finished.)
(D9)
RU
RC
= I if P
G at the time of "finishing."
Derivation: In this case a tension / > o remains both in the systems
5 “ and because none of the tasks is psychologically finished. (D9) fol¬
lows directly from (Aa) in connection with (Ai) and (A3a).
Experimental Proof: For interesting tasks the Zeigarnik quotient was
Summary and Vempication op Somb of Zeigarnik’s Constructs, Assumptions, and Derivations
i8
Field Theory in Social Science
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Normalization and Progress in Psychology 19
found to be equal to i. In the case of an interesting task, there is still a
need to go back to this type of activity even if the special example has
been solved.
Derivation in Regard to Additional Field Forces
According to general field theory the actual behavior is related to
the resulting force acting on the person at that time. It is therefore
always important to know which other forces might influence be¬
havior aside from those specifically established in the experiment. In
Zeigarnik’s experiments the forces in the direction of recall are due
to two sources: the instruction to recall given by the experimenter
sets up a quasi-need, and the corresponding tension t(S^) and force
ifp.R> (The symbol if designates an “induced’’ force rather than a
force corresponding to one's "own” need.) This is but a further
application of (Ai) and (A3) in regard to the activity of recalling.
In addition, there is a force in the direction of spontaneous recall
fp.R due to the tension /f 5 “^ corresponding to the interrupted task
according to (A3a).
The recall of a finished task is therefore due to the force ifpR
whereas the recall of the unfinished task is due to ifp,R + /p,^.
From this follows:
(Dio) The more the recall loses its spontaneity and becomes the result
of the experimenter’s instruction, the more the Zeigarnik quotient ap¬
proaches 1:
RU
Derivation: One can assume that on the average
\dp.Rv\ = \ifp.Rc\
From (Ai), (A3), and (A3a) it follows that
fp.RU > o; fp,JtC =
Although we do not know the general laws governing the addition of
forces, it seems safe to deduce from these relations that
„ Vfp.RU + fp.Rv\ > Vfp.RC + fp,RC
Hence we can write
_ p / Vf p.RU ~ 1 - fp.RV
... \^fp.RC-\-fp.Rc
and this fraction converges towards i. if the spontaneous forces remain
constant and the induced forces are increased.
)
20 Field Theory in Social Science
Experimental Proof: Zeigarnik found that the quotient of those sub¬
jects who experienced the experiment as a memory test and therefore had
a relatively high ifp^n was 1.5 (as against the average of the whole group
of 1.9) ; whereas those subjects who performed the recall in a spontaneous
mood of "telling about" had the very high quotient of 2.8.
V
Psychologists agree that the value of constructs and theories in
an empirical science depends in the last analysis on their fruitfulness
in “explaining” known facts and predicting unknown ones. Not in¬
frequently it has been stated that theories which merely explain
known facts are of no particular value. I cannot agree with this view.
Particularly if the theory combines into one logical system known
facts which previously had to be treated by separate theories; it
would have a definite advantage as an organizational device. Besides,
agreement with the known facts proves the adequacy of this theory
at least to a certain degree. It is true, however, that it is a clearer test
of the adequacy of the theory if one can make predictions from it
and prove these predictions experimentally. The reason for this dif¬
ference seems to be that empirical data generally allow for quite a
range of different interpretations and classifications and that there¬
fore it is usually easy to invent a variety of theories covering them.
The table (p. 18) indicates that most of the proofs used in the
study of Zeigarnik have had the character of predicting unknown
facts. These facts are generally not of a nature which one would have
expected from everyday experience. As a matter of fact, at the time
the experiments were carried out one would have had to predict the
opposite results for the main experiment according to the laws of
association and emotion accepted at that time. And these predictions
are the more significant as they deal with a wide range of psychologi¬
cal data: they link problems of memory with problems of fatigue;
with momentary emotional states; with attitudes such as ambition,
which are generally considered to belong to the field of personality;
with perceptual structurization (seeing the tasks separately or as one
series); with problems of development and personality constancy.
In what single experimental study do a few constructs and theorems
allow for a greater manifold of experimentally testable predictions
in different fields of psychology? Zeigarnik’s study, to my mind, suffi-
21
Formalization and Progress in Psychology
ciently demonstrated the fruitfulness of constructs and theories to
warrant continued investigation. There have since been a great num¬
ber of studies about satiation, level of aspiration, success and failure,
substitution, habits, emotion, environmental structure and forces,
social power fields, social pressure, feeblemindedness, development
and regression—all of which have been based on this field theoretical
approach. They have been carried out partly by my co-workers, but
to a considerable extent by independent investigators. They have
confirmed and elaborated these results and thus indirectly shown the
value of the constructs used. Nearly all of this experimentation was
quantitative in character in the sense that this is used in psychology
today. Of course, difficulties have arisen, and more serious difficulties
may still arise later. Until now, however, the contradictions have
been minor ones and generally could be clarified quite simply. To
hold that all these results could have been predicted without these
constructs and theorems might be logically possible; actually, it was
these constructs which first led to the predictions. Besides, to my
knowledge, there is not yet any other theory formulated which actu¬
ally would account for the totality of these results.
The attempt to develop a field theory on the basis of mathemati¬
cally defined constructs and theorems is, however, very much at an
early stage. Thus, in spite of what seems to be an astonishingly wide
range of consistent applications, one will have to be ready for major
changes. As Hull® most appropriately points out, it should be the
virtue of an empirical theory not to refrain from making definite
assumptions which might later turn out to be wrong. That no major
change has had to be made until now I mainly attribute to one aspect
of our methodological procedure, viz., the method of gradual ap¬
proximation. We have tried to avoid developing elaborate "models”;
instead, we have tried to represent the dynamic relations between the
psychological facts by mathematical constructs at a sufficient level of
generality. Only gradually, and hand in hand with experimental
work, was the specification of the constructs attempted.
To my mind, such a method of gradual approximation, both in
regard to the constructs used and the technical measurement in exper-
The problem of intervening variables in molar behavior theory,
Psychol. Rev., 1943, yo, 273-291.
22
Field Theory in Social Science
iments, is by far the most cautious and ‘'empirical.” In this way a
minimum of assumption is made.
The mathematician too easily forgets that the problem of mathe¬
matics in psychology is one of applied mathematics. It cannot be
the task of the psychologist to develop new mathematical proposi¬
tions, nor to look for particularly complicated mathematical laws.
Instead, he will have to be interested in using as simple mathematical
tools as possible. The mathematician will have to realize, in addition,
that to apply a system of mathematical concepts in an empirical field
one does not necessarily have to prove directly the adequacy of the
basic mathematical axioms of this system one by one. It is as well to
prove the fruitfulness of some of the derived propositions of this
mathematical system for the representation of the empirical proper¬
ties of the field in question. If the representation of spatial relations
in physics by Euclidean geometry had not been permitted until its
axioms (such as the divisibility aJ infinitum of any part of the space)
were proved one by one to hold also for the physical space, physics
could never have used Euclidean geometry. All one can say is this:
if one coordinates certain physical processes to certain geometrical
entities one can make certain physical predictions. Such a fruitfulness
of coordinating certain physical processes to entities of one rather
than of another kind of geometry is all that one can mean by saying
that a certain type of geometry holds or does not hold for the physi¬
cal space. Exactly the same procedure is followed if certain psycho¬
logical processes (such as social locomotion) are coordinated to cer¬
tain entities of topological or hodological geometry (such as path).
There can be no other meaning and no other proof of the applicability
of these geometries to psychology than the fruitfulness of predictions
based on such coordination.
The nonmathematician, on the other hand, has accused us of using
highbrow mathematical or physical concepts. In several places it has
been explained that using spatial geometrical concepts does not
necessarily mean using physical concepts. In regard to logico-mathe-
matical deduction there is no difference in principle between
numerical and geometrical concepts. It seems necessary to emphasize
two points which should warn us against a too early formalization
and may be helpful in describing with greater precision the purpose
of mathematization in an empirical science like psychology.
23
Formalization and Progress in Psychology
VI
In recent years it has been much emphasized, particularly by Hull
and his students, that a psychological theory should be presented in
the form of definitions, assumptions, and conclusions. This argu¬
mentation should be carried out step by step so that its logical strin¬
gency can be easily checked. We, too, have emphasized for quite a
while that psychology will have to depend on strictly logical deriva¬
tions and that a step in this direction is at present one of the most
urgent tasks. Hull has attempted ^o fulfill this task, as far as I can see,
mainly by retaining the traditional concepts of conditioned reflex
and by elaborating them and presenting them in the order of defini¬
tions, assumptions, and conclusions.
One should recognize the value of a presentation of psychological
argumentation in the form of such a strict scheme because it might
help to discover shortcomings of a less formal reasoning. I feel,
however, that we are not dealing here with the most essential aspect
of the development of psychology towards a science which uses
logical derivations based on well-defined constructs. The terms con¬
ditioned reflex, inhibition, excitatory tendency, frustrations, etc., as
used in such derivations, are operationally more or less well defined.
However, little attempt has been made to clarify the conceptual
properties of those constructs. One does not ask whether any of these
constructs has mathematically the properties of a vector, or a scalar,
or a tensor, whether it is a region in a field, a pattern of regions, or
a change occurring within a region. No attempt is made to approach
what IS called in physics the dimension of a construct. In short, the
conceptual properties of the constructs, i.e., their logical inter¬
dependence as opposed to their empirical interdependence as dis¬
covered by experiments, are left entirely vague. An outstanding
example is the construct intelligence which is very well defined
operationally but so poorly defined conceptually that practically no
logical derivation seems possible. In the long run, it seems hopeless
to approach a satisfactory logical level in psychology and at the
same time, to leave conceptually vague the dynamic constructs which
play an outstanding part within the framework of derivation.
bv psychology cannot be reached
by merely repeating, m a more formalistic manner, the statements
24 Field Theory in Social Science
of an existing psychological school like that of conditioned reflex or
of psychoanalysis. Logical form and content are closely interwoven
in any empirical science. Formalization should include the develop¬
ment of constructs every one of which is considered from the start
both as a carrier of formal implication and as an adequate represen¬
tation of empirical data. This implies that the operational and the
conceptual definitions are not arbitrarily related but show an internal
coherence (e. g., the possibility of coordinating psychological force
operationally to locomotion and conceptually to a vector is mainly
based on their common feature of directedness). It further implies
that the various constructs should be built up in such a way as to be
parts of one logically consistent and empirically adequate system.
Without the development of such a type of dynamic constructs
the mere formalization of the traditional constructs might hamper
progress in psychology, in spite of a possible gain in precision. One
psychologist believes that association is something real, libido or
gestalt but a magic word; another is equally convinced that libido or
instinct is something real. Which psychological constructs are accepted
and which are repudiated depends mainly upon the system-language
in which the individual psychologist has been taught to think. It is
clear that the formalization of such a language into an elaborate
system is apt to have a freezing effect. Even after conceptually well-
defined concepts have been found, it may be well to postpone formali¬
zation until their empirical fruitfulness has been well established.
This is the reason why the original presentation of Zeigarnik’s
derivations and results was not given in a formalistic system. Similar
caution is advisable in new psychological fields such as experimental
social psychology. The further the conceptual development proceeds
in psychology as a whole, the quicker will it be possible to apply
formalistic representation even to new fields.
VII
What is accomplished in regard to representing psychological
relations by means of topological and vector concepts, and what
should be the next objectives? If I may express my own feeling about
this question, which will be answered properly, of course, only by
the future development of psychology, I would stress the following
points:
I. The possibilities of a field theory in the realm of action.
Formalization and Progress in Psychology
emotion, and personality are firmly established. The basic statements
of a field theory are that (a) behavior has to be derived from a
totality of coexisting facts, (b) these coexisting facts have the char¬
acter of a "dynamic field" in so far as the state of any part of this
field depends on every other part of the field. The proposition (a)
includes the statement that we have to deal in psychology, too, with
a manifold, the interrelations of which cannot be represented with¬
out the concept of space.'® In fact ail psychological schools implicitly
agree with this statement by using concepts like approach or with¬
drawal, social position, and so forth in their descriptions. It is more
and more recognized, although there are still some exceptions, that
the spatial relations of psychological data cannot be adequately
represented by rneans of the physical space, but have to be treated,
at least for the time being, as a psychological space. It is everywhere
accepted that this life space” includes the person and the psycho¬
logical environment.
In regard to proposition (b) the situation is similar. Even theories
originally based on a coordination of isolated stimuli to isolated
reactions have developed in a direction which brings them at least
very close to (b). A good example for this is the theory of Hull
which does not correlate a reaction to a single stimulus such as an
optical one, but to a "pattern of stimuli” which includes goal and
dnve stimuli. In principle it is everywhere accepted that behavior
n _1 c a function of the person (P) and the environment (E),
~ (PyP-)> ar»d that P and E in this formula are interdependent
variables. ^
prerequisite for a scientific representation of the
psychological field is the finding of a geometry adequate to repre¬
sent the spatial relations of psychological facts. We know from the
hi^ory of physics that an empirical space might be represented by
different geometries: at first physics used Euclidean, more recently
Riemann.an geometry. It is to be expected that for psychology too
more than one geometry might be found useful. Today, one will be
intern^'^/? geometry which permits a mathematical
bein? n "approach” and "withdrawal” without
being psychologically meaningless. The hodological space" is sup-
'®See Chapter VI.
26
Field Theory in Social Science
posed to be such a geometry. The hodological space is a finitely
structured space, that is, its parts are not infinitely divisible but are
composed of certain units or regions. Direction and distance are
defined by "distinguished paths,” which can easily be coordinated
to psychological locomotion. Such a geometry permits an adequate
representation of the step-by-step character of most psychological
processes. It permits furthermore an adequate answer to the puzzling
necessity to ascribe different psychological directions to locomotions
in the same physical direction if the goal of those locomotions is
different. This is particularly important for the problem of the
roundabout route. The hodological space permits the description of
the structural relations within the person as well as in his psycho¬
logical environment. For instance, the degree of differentiation of
the person and the peripheral and central layers can thus be defined.
Hodological space is no less useful for describing the structure of
groups and their changes. Its greatest value, however, becomes
apparent when we deal with problems of dynamics.
3. During the latter part of the last century the development of
dynamic concepts in scientific psychology was governed by the fear
of slipping into the "metaphysics of teleology.” The idea that not
the future but the past has to be considered as the "cause” of behavior
was one of the major motives in developing associationism. At that
time anything connected with the concept of direction was considered
to be a teleological approach. The concept of goal was suspect and
had to be replaced by something which did not imply the concept
of direction. Other aspects of teleology looked upon with no less
suspicion were: "foresight," which permits the avoiding of obstacles,
and "consciousness,” which takes into account the total setting.
Associationism tried hard to avoid these allegedly unscientific ele¬
ments. It tried to develop a concept of association devoid of the
logical element of direction. Association should be blind and based
entirely on the past (that meant that the theory of association had to
be based on the concept of repetition).
Of course the facts of goals, needs, and will were too important
simply to be neglected. With psychology under the spell j?f the
dichotomy "teleology” or "causation by the past," nothing else
seemed to be left for those psychologists who were impressed by the
importance of goal-seeking and directedness than to resort to a
Formalization and Progress in Psychology ‘zrj
definite teleological theory. McDougall is a classic representative of
this approach. The associationists, too, could not entirely neglect
goal-directed and Meaningful behavior. They tried to take goals,
intentions, and will into their system, and it is interesting to see how
by doing this the character of the associationistic theory was changed.
Thorndike’s law of effect and Ach’s concept of determinierende
Tendenz ascribe to those types of repetition which are connected with
certain aspects of a goal (reaching the goal, or setting up an inten¬
tion) the creation of particularly strong associations. Hull recognized
the importance of goals and needs by including goal- and need-stimuli
as important elements into those "stimulus patterns," which are
assumed as the cause of a reaction. More and more, the theory of
associationism (conditioned reflex) has been influenced by the
attempt to derive directed activities without assuming directed
dynamic factors.
According to field theory, behavior depends neither on the past
nor on the future but on the present field. (This present field has a
certain time-depth. It includes the "psychological past," "psycho¬
logical present, and psychological future" which constitute one of
the dimensions of the life space existing at a given time.) This is in
contrast both to the belief of teleology that the future is the cause
of behavior, and that of associationism that the past is the cause of
behavior. Furthermore, it is an error to consider the assumption of
directed factors as characteristic of teleology. The causal explanations
in physics certainly do not avoid such assumptions: physical force is
a directed entity, a vector. Psychology, too, becomes in no way meta¬
physical by resorting to constructs of vectorial character such as
psychological forces. This permits a direct attack on the problems of
directed action. In addition, by defining direction in terms of hodo-
logical space, an adequate representation is possible of what has
been meaningful in some of the other claims of teleology. The
puzzling relation between knowledge and dynamics which had a
mystical character in teleology is made understandable at least in one
fundamental point: it becomes clear why lack of knowledge has the
ettect of a barrier. The mysterious ability of animals to make round-
tuu rationally related to the fact that equilibria in
^he hodological space depend upon the totality of relations in the
28
Field Theory in Social Science
4. A variety of psychological processes, I feel, can be treated
with relative adequacy with the conceptual tools at hand.^- These
include the basic characteristics of needs and the various ways of
their gratification, including substitution. The substitute value of one
activity for another can be measured, and the general conditions for
substitute value can be derived. Substitution involves the basic
problems of setting up new goals and of the level of aspiration. In
this field an important step forward has been made by the derivation
of the somewhat paradoxical tendency to prefer difficult goals to
easy ones (a tendency which seems to contradict the ‘'law of parsi¬
mony"). We have already mentioned that many problems related
to the process of striving for a given goal can be attacked, particularly
the relation between the cognitive structure (learning, insight, round¬
about route) and the direction and the strength of the psychological
forces. The same holds for many problems connected with conflict
situations. The treatment of problems of atmospheres- might be
specifically mentioned. It is possible to derive the effect of pressure
of different degrees upon the degree of the momentary personality
differentiation. The predictions concerning the effect of frustration
upon productivity and regression have been borne out by experiment.
The degree of rigidity or dynamic communication between the sub-
parts of the person (one of the basic factors in personality besides
its degree of differentiation) has been measured. Finally, one result
which seems to me of great consequence: the size of those regions
which, at a given time, have the character of undifferentiated units
in the life space has become measurable, at least in certain cases.'®
A number of predictions about the effect of the size of these units
on animal behavior have been verified.'^
As to the next tasks, it is hoped that the quantitative measurement
of psychological forces will be accomplished soon. This will provide
the answer for the laws of the composition of forces (resultant
forces) and aid in the measurement of tension. One of the fields
which most urgently requires improvements is that of social psy-
For a more detailed description of the research mentioned here, sec Chapter X.
Dorwin Cartwright; Relation of decision-time to the categories of response.
Am. J. Psychol., 1941. 54. i74-i9<5.
Claude Buxton: Latent learning and the goal gradient hypothesis, Contr.
Psychol. Theor., 1940, 2, No. 2. Duke University Press.
Formalization and Progress in Psychology 29
chology. To my mind, it is possible today to define groups and
group goals operationally and with the type of constructs referred
to. With their help predictions have been made, and experimentally
confirmed, about the effect of certain social atmospheres on group
life. However, a number of basic constructs in social psychology,
including that of inducing fields {power fields') y need refinement.
The progress thus far made in the conceptual development of
psychology warrants much optimism. The idea that such phenomena
as hope or friendship could ever be represented by geometrical or
other mathematical concepts would have seemed beyond any realistic
expectation a few years ago. Today such representation is possible
and of great help in dealing with these phenomena. I have no doubt
that the concepts of topology and hodological space, or concepts of
a similar nature, will prove fruitful for representation and prediction
in every field of psychology. On the other hand, one of the most
important factors for steady progress in any science is good judgment
in deciding which problems are ready for attack and which are
better delayed until a more mature state of that science has been
reached.
n
Constructs in Field Theory
(1944)
lJT_mTJTJTnJTTlJTJTJTJTJT^
Quality and Quantity in Psychology
E ver since the time of Weber and Fechner there has been a trend
in psychology toward quantification and mathematization. This
trend has become increasingly stronger. There has been much contro¬
versy, however, as to how mathematization can be achieved. In the be¬
ginning there was much opposition in "principle” that psychology is
a qualitative science and that quantification was to be limited to the
narrow field of psychology of perception. Today it is accepted that
many of the previously excluded areas such as the psychology of
motivation have to be treated mathematically, too.
E. Cassirer' has given a detailed historical description of con¬
troversies between qualitative and quantitative approaches in the
•development of physics and chemistry. Some of the present-day
theoretical problems in psychology show great methodological
similarities to these controversies although they are historically
separated by centuries. According to Cassirer, the basic idea which
has led to the solution of these controversies in mathematics itself
and in the mathematical treatment of physical data has been: quanti¬
tative and qualitative approaches are not opposites but necessary
complements of each other.
Cassirer points out again and again that mathematization is not
identical with quantification. Mathematics handles quantity and
* E. Cassirer: Sub<tanzbegriff und Functtonbegriff, Untersuchungen uber die
Grundjragen det Efksftntnhkritik (Berlin: B. Cassirer, 1910).
50
Constructs in Field Theory 31
quality. This is particularly apparent in those branches of geometry
which make nonquantitative but still mathematically "exact” state¬
ments in regard to position and other geometrical relations.
Psychology, too, might gain much if it were more aware of the
f&ct that mathematics is able to handle quantitative and qualitative
problems. That correct qualitative analysis is a prerequisite for
adequate quantitative treatment is well recognized in psychological
statistics. ^X^hat seems less clear is that the qualitative differences
themselves can and should be approached mathematically.
Psychologists who think in field-theoretical terms and those who
think in stimulus-response terms agree that psychological explana¬
tions have to use "constructs” and that psychological theory has to
be mathematical in natuie. There are still differences, it seems, in
regard to what mathematization means and how to -proceed in
developing theories.
We may use the conceptual development of the problem of
frustration as an example.
Everyday Concepts and Scientific Constructs
The concept of frustration has been brought to the fore by Freud.
He links frustration with basic problems of sex, culture, sublimation,
dreams, and the whole area of psychopathology. These concepts
were not designed to serve as a basis for strict experimentation or
for quantitative procedures. They were taken from everyday language.
Still their placement in the psychoanalytical system has somewhat
sharpened and specified their meaning*
up to 1920 academic psychology, breathing the "pure scientific
air of sensory perception and memory, did not deem it appropriate
for a scientist to consider these "darker and mystical aspects of life.”
Whenever these questions arose, they were handled gingerly. To
speak about frustration, substitution, aggression, or love in experi¬
mental psychology appeared at that time as symptomatic of a dis¬
cussion outside the realm of science, as to some psychologists today
the very term "group atmosphere” seems to be symptomatic of a
nonscientific approach.
From the beginning, the field-theoretical discussion of frustration
was highly analytical. A variety of situations was distinguished, such
32 Field Theory in Social Science
as: frustration in a setting of reward as compared with frustration
under threat of punishment; frustration of desire to move toward as
against moving away from an area of activities; frustration where
only a circumscribed area is inaccessible as against a prisonlike set¬
ting where a barrier surrounds the person on all sides.
These distinctions can be said to be qualitative in nature. How¬
ever, they can be represented through topological and vector concepts
in a way which (a) makes each situation open for quantitative treat¬
ment, (b) does not handle these qualitatively different situations as
entirely separate entities but conceives of them as a result of certain
quantitative variations or of variations in the distribution of forces.
This seemingly paradoxical feat can be achieved by a "method
of construction," which has been first developed in mathematics
itself. To consider qualitatively different geometrical entities (such
as circle, square, parabola) as the product of a certain combination
of certain "elements of construction" (such as points and move¬
ments) has since the time of the Greeks been the secret of this
method. It is sometimes called the method of "genetic definition."
It is able, at the same time, to link and to separate; it does not
minimize qualitative differences and still lays open their relation
to general quantitative variables. Cassirer has shown how the same
method proved to be fruitful in empirical sciences where the "ele¬
ments of construction" are mathematically described empirical enti¬
ties (such as forces, ions, atoms).
The field-theoretical analysis of frustration achieves a similar
qualitative and quantitative characterization, a conceptual separation
and linkage through such constructs as "psychological force," psy¬
chological region," "power field." With the help of these con¬
ceptual means certain derivations were made, such as: under what
conditions frustration would lead to a roundabout route and when
to a leaving of the field, under what conditions social aggression
would result, and what the form of restless movements would be.
These predictions are partly made in regard to different types of
setting and partly linked to quantitative conditions (such as the
relative strength of forces) within one setting.
These predictions were the basis for planning and analyzing a
number of experiments.® In a setting of frustration, relatively strong
* For a more detailed discussion of these experiments, see Chapter X.
Constructs in Field Theory
emotions and aggression were produced; persistence, at various age
levels and under' conditions of repeated frustration, was studied;
the substitute value of various types of play and nonplay behavior
was measured in settings of goal frustration; the effect of different
intensities of frustration on constructiveness in play was studied and
the degree of regression measured with single children and with
pairs of friends; factors which determine the effect of frustration
in a prison were investigated; experiments on group atmosphere
and studies of organi2ed and unorganized groups deal with the effect
of social frustration in a group setting, particularly with the effect
on aggression, cooperation, and passivity.
These investigations of the causes and effects of frustration include
quite a variety of divergent topics, such as: hope and time perspective,
type of activity and group organization, security and shyness, pro¬
ductivity, emotional tension, friendship and fight, cooperation and
aggression, development and regression, reward and punishment,
tools and obstacles, leadership, degree of acceptance of other persons’
goals. Yet this variety of phenomena is approached with relatively
few basic concepts (such as force held, power field, tension, simple
and organizational dependence). These few concepts, used as "ele¬
ments of construction, permit the analytical treatment and "genetic
definition of a vast realm of qualitative phenomena and quantitative
problems in a concrete fashion. That this can be done shows, so it
seems to me, the power of the method and the fruitfulness of the
concepts.
SR (stimulus—response) theories, too, follow something like a
method of conceptual construction. More recently this approach has
widened its area of application from the problems of rote learning
to such general problems as frustration.^ One might ask: What is
similar and what is different between the field-theoretical approach
and the SR approach in this area of problems?
What "is" Frustration
One of the standard criticisms made by SR theory has been that
field theory is not sticking to a physical definition of the conditions.
Pr«i'. and Aggression (New Haven: Yale Univers.ty
34 Field Theory in Social Science
The term "expectation,” for instance, has been taboo, as much as
terms like "degree of acceptance,” or "feeling of belonging.” Even
today some veterans of SR theory seem to hold to the idea that
scientific psychology means definition in terms of physics.^ The study
of frustration and aggression, on the other hand, seemed to be a
clear departure from this position. Most of the terms, like frustra¬
tion or cooperation, are defined in psychological terms. In other
words, the trend away from physicalistic definitions toward psycho¬
logical definitions (which was apparent ever since the concept of
"goal” was accepted as legitimate) seems to prevail and to lead to
a happy union with the aspects expressed in field theory.
There seems to be no difference in regard to the tendency toward
a quantitative approach to frustration. There is, of course, no differ¬
ence in regard to problems of reliability or similar methodological
questions of a technical nature. There is no difference of opinion in
regard to the necessity of an operational definition of psychological
concepts nor a difference of opinion in regard to the desirability of
strict theories and derivations.
An important difference seems to lie in the following direction:
In SR theory "frustration” is treated as a "concept,” as an "element
of construction.” The attempt is made to define this concept oper¬
ationally and to proceed from there to a quantitative theory, for
instance, about the relation between frustration and aggression. When
the psychologist who follows field-theoretical lines speaks about
frustration, learning, hope, friendship, aggression he is conscious of
the fact that he is using "popular terms.” These terms are quite
helpful, even necessary, in the beginning. However, they are not
considered, within field theory, as psychological concepts in the sense
of scientific "elements of construction.” The reason for this is that
a term like "frustration” (a) lacks a conceptual definition through
coordination to mathematical concepts, (b) refers in a vague way
to a multitude of different settings rather than to one conceptually
definable type of situation.®
* C. Hull: The problem of intervening variables in molar behavior theory, Psychol.
Rev., 1943, yo, 273-291.
® Some studies use the term '‘frustration" as a name for the incident which inter¬
rupts a goal-directed activity. In this case the term "frustration” does not refer to
a structure of a "situation” but to an "event," that is, something which has the
same conceptual dimension (see later) as "behavior." The conclusion that several
Constructs in Field Theory
If this is correct, it would be scientifically meaningless to attempt,
for instance, to link the intensity of frustration lawfully with any
specific effect (such as aggression); for one would have to know
the type of frustration and the detailed setting in order to make any
definite derivations. Indeed, the experiments show that it is as correct
to say frustration leads to increased friendship and nonaggression”®
as it is to say "frustration leads to aggression.” It is correct to say
that frustration leads to increased as well as to decreased productivity,
that it leads to new efforts as well as to passivity.'^
It is interesting to note that the more recent publications of the
Yale group increasingly recognize the necessity of differentiating
between the various setups, and that they, too, are becoming more
analytical. However, the attempt to keep "frustration” as one defin¬
able psychological entity and to link it lawfully with certain effects,
such as aggression, seems not yet to have been given up. Cases of
nonaggression are treated as the result of "additional factors” which
bring about, in the particular case, phenomena which are only
apparently different from what is expected by the general law.
The field-theoretical approach in this point is more radical. Its
higher demands on concepts can be formulated in the following
way: Psychology should be as much concerned with the question of
what frustration "is” psychologically, as with the effect of frustra¬
tion. In fact, field theory considers it impossible to investigate the
laws of frustration, hope, friendship, or autocracy without investigat-
ing at the same time what frustration, hope, friendship, or autocracy
IS psychologically.
I am well aware that questions about the "nature” of objects or
events have been much abused and have been asked in a scientifically
meaningless, metaphysical way. When psychology departed from its
early philosophical” speculations it banned, very understandably
husuation should be distinguished and defined analytically before definite
Hnk s'^h ohenm impossible to
of sUua^rrn consistently to the same concept, independent
axioms and a mam reason for the development of -constructs” in a science ^
Frustrat/on and regression, Uni., town S,ud.
3*5 Field Theory in Social Science
and correctly, questions about what a psychological phenomenon
like intelligence is. The only answer permitted was an "operational
definition," as, for instance, "Intelligence is what is measured by
intelligence tests."
Unfortunately, in this way the child has been thrown out with
the bath. There is one meaning behind the question about the
"nature" of things which is as essential for psychology as it is for
science in general. If a chemist finds a certain material he may be
able to define it operationally by pointing out where it can be found
and by specifying its color and weight. In studying this material,
the first question of the chemist will be: "What is this material
chemically.^” He might find that it is an element or a compound, or
he might find that the chemical constitution of this material varied
from piece to piece (as much as the psychological nature of frustra¬
tion varied from occasion to occasion). In this case, the material,
in spite of its being well-defined operationally, does not represent
''one type" from the point of view of the chemist. The criterion for
this oneness is the possibility of representing it by one chemical
formula, through one combination of "elements of conceptual con¬
struction" (such as ions, atoms). What an object is is now deter¬
mined by the possibility of characterizing it by one combination
of conceptual constructs.
The history of chemistry and physics shows a slow change from
such popular distinctions as "fire, water, and earth"—which are
related to easily observable "obvious" but "superficial" properties—
to classifications based on the method of conceptual construction.
This method frequently overrules the testimony of the "common
appearance"; it calls different what appears to be one, and calls one
what appears different. The chemist follows this method because he
is interested in the chemical behavior of the material rather than its
appearance. He therefore will not attempt to look for common laws
or common effects if he knows that—from the point of view of
conceptual construction—the material at hand is an arbitrary con¬
glomeration of types.
Doubtlessly "empirical laws of the descriptive type" can be estab¬
lished (on the basis of operational, definitions alone) in the psy¬
chology of "learning" and "frustration” as well as in the physics
of "water, fire, and earth."
Constructs in Field Theory 37
Many valuable data can be and have been gathered with the scien¬
tific tools available on this level. Wherever psychology reaches out
into a new area, groundwork has to be laid with these tools. Concep¬
tual refinement should not be regarded as the only aspect of progress
in psychology. It is, however, of greatest importance that psychology,
too, can in its own way proceed from the "water and fire” level
to a more advanced level of concepts. For no part of psychology or
its applications can progress beyond very definite limitations if it
cannot reach the level where the "psychological nature” of an event
is characterized by the conceptual construction which represents it.
Conceptual Dimensions of Psychological Constructs
One of the symptoms of scientific constructs above the water and
fire level is the possibility of defining their "conceptual type” or
ultimately their conceptual dimension.” To give a simple example
from physics: "Speed” and "acceleration” do not have the same
conceptual dimension because speed is distance over time (d/t)^
whereas acceleration is distance over the square of time (d/t^). On
the other hand, everything which can be expressed as speed has the
same conceptual dimension. Similarly, every physical phenomenon
which can be expressed as a physical force (that is, mathematically
as a vector) has the same conceptual dimension. Force, however,
has not the same dimension as energy.
To know what the conceptual dimension of a construct is is of
great methodological importance. (i ) Only those entities which have
the same conceptual dimension can be compared as to their magni¬
tude (2) Everything which has the same conceptual dimension
can be compared quantitatively; its magnitude can be measured, in
principle, with the same yardstick (units of measurement).
It seerns to be necessary and possible to apply the idea of con¬
ceptual dimension also to the constructs in psychology. This can be
done by relating each construct to a few basic psychological elements
of conceptual construction.
Obviously, the state of development of psychology is not such
a a systematic linking of every construct with any other by a
sys ern of quantitative equations can be realized. On the other hand,
am inclined to think that psychology is not far away from a level
38 Field Theory in Social Science
where a good number of the basic constructs can be linked in a
precise manner. (Both SR and field theory have actually established
such explicit relations for some of the constructs.) But we have not
yet become accustomed to think in terms of conceptual dimensions
or—to use a more general and for the present state more appropriate
term—"conceptual t)^es.**
It would be a mistake to delay using this approach until psychology
has reached a stage where each construct designates phenomena
which can be measured quantitatively. For to reach a point where
all psychological laws can be expressed in quantitative equations,
we have to recognize that such equations presuppose that both sides
of them have psychologically the same conceptual dimension. Work¬
ing toward such objectives will be much facilitated if we become
aware of the importance of these aspects and, at least, learn carefully
to distinguish different conceptual types.
Whenever the problem of psychological measurement arises we
should ask: What is the conceptual type of the phenomenon we want
to measure, and how is the measuring procedure related to this par¬
ticular type? A concern with this aspect of measurement should do
much to clarify the frequently obscure relations between the con¬
ceptual definition of a psychological construct and its operational
definition (symptoms, measurements); it should facilitate the de¬
velopment of methods to measure not yet measured constructs.
There are indications that certain types of questions can be
answered only by certain types of constructs. For instance, it seems
that a "prediction of the behavior of an individual in a specific
situation” has to be based on a "force field” or a conceptually equiv¬
alent construct. If it is correct that no other conceptual type (such as
power field, position, tension, force) suffices for such a prediction,
important positive and negative methodological implications are
obvious.
On the whole, then, we may say that the problem of conceptual
types is closely related to the problems of psychological measure¬
ment and of mathematical equations expressing psychological laws,
and to the task of interrelating systematically all psychological con¬
structs. This relation makes the issue timely; it indicates, too, that
we have to deal here with one of the basic permanent questions of
scientific psychology.
Constructs in Field Theory 39
We shall not attempt here to develop the idea of conceptual
dimensions in detail. This task demands much thought and careful
elaboration. However, we should like to give as illustrations a few
examples of dynamic and nondynamic constructs of different and
of equal “conceptual type.”
1. One of the basic psychological concepts is that of psychological
position. Position is a “spacial relation of regions”; for instance, the
position of a region A can be characterized by its lying in B. Examples
of psychological concepts which have the conceptual dimension of
position are: group belongingness of an individual, his occupational
position, involvement in an activity.
2. Locomotion has a different dimension from position. It refers
to a “relation of positions at different times.” Any psychological
phenomenon that can be represented as a locomotion—and that
holds for most “behavior”—would have the same conceptual
dimension.
3. Cognitive structure might be regarded as having the same
dimension as position because it refers to the relative position of
different parts of a field. Structure does not refer, however, to the
position of one point but to the position of a multitude of points or
regions.
4. Force or “tendency to locomotion” has conceptually a different
character from actual locomotion, although locomotion is one of the
symptoms (operational definition) for a constellation of forces where
the resultant force is greater than zero. It has sometimes been stated
that the term force is equivalent to “strength of drive” in the SR
theory. This would be correct if by strength of drive a psychological
entity is meant which mathematically has the character of a vector.
Such a "strength of drive" would have to be distinguished from
the strength of “need” if need refers to tension (tension has a
different dimension from force). SR theory will have to specify
whether strength of drive should be understood to be a vector before
the question can be decided.
5 * Goal. This concept does not have the dimension of a force, in
spite of the fact that there is a close relation between goals and
forces. A goal has the conceptual dimension of a "force field" _that
IS, of a distribution of forces in space. Goal (or in field-theoretical
terminology, a positive valence) is a force field of a special structure.
40 Field Theory in Social Science
namely, a force field where all forces point toward the same region.
To conceive of a goal in this way gives it a definite place within the
totality of possible patterns of force fields. The counterpart of a
distribution of forces toward one region is the distribution away
from one region. This is equivalent to the concept of "aversion.”
Other types of force fields are equivalent to what is called a "diffi¬
culty” or "barrier.” The transformation of such everyday concepts
as goals, difficulties, aversions into force fields of different types
makes it possible to link these qualitatively very different entities
in a way which lays open their functional similarity and differences.
6. Conflict refers not to one force field but to the overlapping of
at least two force fields. "Frustration” has the same dimension as
conflict. A systematic survey of the possible types of frustration or
conflict should, therefore, inquire how force fields can overlap in
such a way that equally strong but opposite forces result at some
points of the field. Such analysis permits a systematic treatment of
the conditions and the effects of conflicts. The concept equilibrium
has the same dimension as conflict; it refers to certain constellations
of overlapping force fields.
7. Fear may seem to have the same dimension as aversion. How¬
ever, in most cases fear is related to the psychological future. It has
to deal with some aspect of "time perspective.” In this respect it is
similar to concepts like hope, plan, expectation. Expectation refers
to the psychological structure and the distribution of forces on the
reality level of the psychological future. Hope refers to a relation
between the structure of the reality level and of the wish level of
the psychological future. Guilt refers to the relation between the
structure of the reality and the wish level of the psychological past.
8. Power does not have the same dimension as psychological
force. That the power of A is greater than the power of B does not
imply that A actually exerts pressure on B. The concept of power
refers to a "possibility of inducing forces” of a certain magnitude
on another person. The concept of power field, therefore, does not
have the same conceptual dimension as that of a force field. In using
concepts like attack, defense, aggression, friendship, one has to be
aware of the different dimensions of the concepts: power field, force
field, force and behavior.
9. Values. Like the term ideology, the term value is a rather unclear
Constructs in Field Theory 41
concept in psychology. Values influence behavior but do not have the
character of a goal (that is, of a force field). For example, the
individual does not try to “reach” the value of fairness but fairness
is “guiding” his behavior. It is probably correct to say that values
determine which types of activity have a positive and which have a
negative valence for an individual in a given situation. In other
words, values are not force fields but they “induce” force fields.
That means values are constructs which have the same psychological
dimension as power fields. It is interesting to consider from this
point of view the psychoanalytical theory that values are “intern¬
alized” parents. Independent of whether this statement in regard to
the genesis of values is or is not correct we can at least say that values
and persons are equivalent in so far as both can be represented by
power fields.
Summary
It is not necessary to discuss here the relations between the different
conceptual types, that is, the problem of conceptual "dimension” in
the narrower sense of the term, although that seems to be possible
for some of the concepts. The examples may suffice to illustrate at
least some of the points which make the problem of conceptual types
or dimensions of constructs very important for psychology today. In
my experience, we have here one of the most helpful methodological
tools for approaching new areas of problems in psychology. A major
difficulty in setting up worthwhile experiments in a new field is the
inability to formulate intelligently and adequately experimental and
theoretical questions. An investigation into the conceptual types is
one of the most helpful first steps toward the formulation of such
questions.
To state, for instance, that the conceptual types of a value are
those of a power field means raising the problem of a systematic
survey of all kinds of power fields. It relates values in a precise man¬
ner to the rest of the psychological constructs (such as “forces” or
behavior ). It indicates, at least in a general way, along what lines
a measurement of the effects of values should proceed. It opens up
a wealth of experimental problems. For instance, if a value is equiv
alent to a power field any change of values would have to be con-
42 Field Theory in Social Science
ceived of as a process which depends on the totality of power fields,
including social, political, and personal power fields, existing in that
situation. On this basis a systematic experimental attack on the
relation between ideological changes and power relations within a
group might well be outlined.
Finally, the idea of conceptual types or dimensions gives scientific
meaning to the question of what a psychological phenomenon "is.*’
It helps determine whether a psychological term designates a con¬
glomeration of phenomena which can be conceived of as a unit only
on the "fire and water level” of concepts or whether it is worth being
retained in a psychology built with constructs that have clearly defined
conceptual dimensions.
Ill
Defixiing the 'Tield at a Given Time”
(1943)
lJT_rXTTJTJTJT_rTTlJTrLnJTJTTTJ"^^
Field Theory and the Phase Space
T he history of acceptance of new theories frequently shows the
following steps: At first the new idea is treated as pure nonsense,
not worth looking at. Then comes a time when a multitude of con¬
tradictory objections are raised, such as: the new theory is too fancy,
or merely a new terminology; it is not fruitful, or simply wrong.
Finally a state is reached when everyone seems to claim that he had
always followed this theory. This usually marks the last state before
general acceptance.
The increasing trend toward field theory in psychology is apparent
in recent variations of psychoanalysis (Kardiner, Homey) and also
within the theory of the conditioned reflex. This trend makes the
claiification of the meaning of field theory only the more important
because those psychologists who, like myself, have been in favor of
field theory for many years have not been very successful in making
the essence of this theory clear. The only excuse I know of is that
this matter is not very simple. Physics and philosophy do not seem
to have done much analytical work about the meaning of field theory
that could be helpful to the psychologist. In addition, methods like
field theory can really be understood and mastered only in the same
way as methods in a handcraft, namely, by learning them through
practice.
Hilgard and Marquis^ quote from a letter of Clark Hull the
^ E. R. Hilgard ar^d D. G. Marquis: Conditioning and learning (New York: D.
Appleton-Ccntury, Co., Z940).
43
44 Field Theory in Social Science
following sentence: “As I see it, the moment one expresses in any
very general manner the various potentialities of behavior as de¬
pendent upon the simultaneous status of one or more variables, he
has the substance of what is currently called field theory."
It is correct that field theory emphasizes the importance of the
fact that any event is a resultant of a multitude of factors. The
recognition of the necessity of a fair representation of this multitude
of interdependent factors is a step in the direction toward field
theory. However, this does not suffice. Field theory is something more
specific.
To use an illustration: Success in a certain sport may depend upon
a combination of muscular strength, velocity of movement, ability
to make quick decisions, and precise perception of direction and
distance. A change in any one of these five variables might alter the
result to a certain degree. One can represent these variables as five
dimensions of a diagram. The resultant of any possible constellation
of these factors for the amount of success can be marked as a point
in the diagram. The totality of these points then is a diagrammatic
representation of this dependence, in other words, of an empirical
law.
Physics frequently makes use of such representation of a multitude
of factors influencing an event. To each of certain properties, such
as temperature, pressure, time, spacial position, one dimension is
coordinated. Such a representation in physics is called “phase space.
Such a phase space may have twenty dimensions if twenty factors have
to be considered. A phase space is something definitely different
from that three-dimensional “physical space" within which physical
objects are moving. In the same way the psychological space, the
life space or psychological field, in which psychological locomotion
or structural changes take place, is something different from those
diagrams where dimensions mean merely gradations of properties.
In discussing these questions with a leading theoretical physicist,
we agreed that the recognition of a multitude of factors as determin¬
ing an event, and even their representation as a phase space, does
not presuppose field theory. In psychology, Thurstone s factor
analysis deals with such relations of various factors. Any character
profile recognizes the multitude of factors. Field theorists and non-
Defining the ''Field at a Given Time*’ 45
field theorists can both avail themselves of these useful devices, but
not everybody who uses them is therefore a field theorist.
What is field theory? Is it a kind of very general theory? If one
proceeds in physics from a special law or theory (such as the law
of the free-falling body) to more general theories (such as the
Newtonian laws) or still more general theories (such as the equa¬
tions of Maxwell), one does not finally come to field theory. In other
words, field theory can hardly be called a theory in the usual sense.
This fact becomes still more apparent when we consider the
relation between the correctness or incorrectness of a theory and
its character as a field theory. A special theory in physics or psy-
chology may be a field theory, but nevertheless wrong. On the other
hand, a description of what Hans Feigl calls an ''empirical theory
on the lowest level" may be correct without being field theory
(although I do not believe that a theory on the higher levels of
constructs can be correct in psychology without being field theory).
Field theory, therefore, can hardly be called correct or incorrect
in the same way as a theory in the usual sense of the term. Field
theory is probably best characterized as a method: namely, a method
of analyzing causal relations and of building scientific constructs.
This method of analyzing causal relations can be expressed in the
form of certain general statements about the "nature” of the con¬
ditions of change. To what degree such a statement has an "analytical”
(logical, a priori) and to what degree it has an "empirical” character
do not need to be discussed here.
The Pjrjnciple of Contemporaneity and the
Effect of Past and Future
One of the basic statements of psychological field theory can be
formulated as follows: Any behavior or any other change in a
psychological field depends only upon the psychological field at that
time.
This principle has been stressed by the field theorists from the
beginning. It has been frequently misunderstood and interpreted to
mean that field theorists are not interested in historical problems or
m the effect of previous experiences. Nothing can be more mistaken,
act, field theorists are most interested in developmental and
46 Field Theory in Social Science
historical problems and have certainly done their share to enlarge
the temporal scope of the psychological experiment from that of the
classic reaction-time experiment, which lasts only a few seconds, to
experimental situations, which contain a systematically created history
through hours or weeks.
If a clarification of the field-theoretical principle of contempo¬
raneity could be achieved, it would, I feel, be most helpful for an
understanding among the various schools in psychology.
Figure i. 5 during t — n until / + » is a "closed system"; but 5 is not gemdentic
with S’. — indicates the velocity of x.
dt
The meaning of this far-reaching principle can be expressed
rather easily by referring to its application in classical physics.
A change at the point x in the physical world is customarily
characterized as -3—; that is to say, as a differential change in the
at
position of X during a differential time-period dt. Field theory states
Defining the ''Field at a Given Time
dx
47
that the change at the time / depends only on the situation S* at
dt
that time t (Figure i).
(I)
dx
It
= P(S>)
It does not depend, in addition, on past or future situations. In
other words, the formula (i ) is correct, but not the formula (la) :
(la) dx = F(S^) + 4- * • • + + • ■ ■
Of course, there are cases in physics where one can state the rela¬
tion between a change and a past situation 5'' ” (where / — « is a
time not immediately preceding t\ \t — n\ > dt). In other words,
there are occasions where it is technically possible to write:
( 2 )
However, this is possible only if it is known how the later situation
S* depends on the previous situation 5 '-”; in other words, if the func¬
tion F in the equation
( 3 ) 5 ' = F(S*-^)
IS known. Such knowledge presupposes usually (a) that both situa¬
tions are "closed systems" which are genidentic=; (b) that the laws
are known which deal with the change of all points of the previous
situation and also the laws dealing with the changes in the situa¬
tions between the previous situation 5 *-'' and the latter situation S.
The meaning of linking a change to a past situation by formula (a)
might be clarified best by pointing out that it is possible in a similar
way to link a present change to a future situation 5'*** and to write:
(2a)
This IS possible whenever we have to deal with a "closed system"
during the time-period / until / n, and if the laws of the on-going
changes during this period are known.
possibility of writing this functional equation does not mean
at the future situation 5'*' is conceived of as a "condition" of the
Field Theory in Social Science
present change In fact, the same would occur if the closed
system were destroyed before the time (/ + «). In other words, the
change depends on the situation (S^) at that time only (in line
with formula {i}). The technical possibility of expressing this
change mathematically as a function of a future or a past time does
not change this fact.®
The equivalent to in physics is the concept "behavior” in psy¬
chology, if we understand the term behavior to cover any change in
the psychological field. The field-theoretical principle of contempo¬
raneity in psychology then means that the behavior b at the time t
is a function of the situation S at the time / only ( 5 * is meant to in¬
clude both the person and his psychological environment),
= V(S*)
and not, in addition, a function of past or future situations 5 *~** or
5 *^" (Figure 2). Again, it is possible to relate the behavior b in¬
directly to either a past situation (S*-^) or a future situation
but again, this can be done only if these situations are closed systems,
and if the changes in the intermediate periods can be accounted for
by known laws. It seems that psychologists are increasingly aware of
the importance of this formula.
How TO Determine the Properties of a
Field at a Given Time
If one has to derive behavior from the situation at that time, a
way has to be found to determine the character of the "situation at
a given time.” This determination implies a number of questions
which are, I think, interesting both psychologically and philosoph¬
ically.
To determine the properties of a present situation or—to use
medical terminology—to make a diagnosis, one can follow two dif-
® Frequently an occurrence is said to be caused by the "preceding conditions.”
This term seems to have been misunderstood by psychologists to refer to a distant
past situation although it should refer to the present situation, or at least to
the immediately preceding situation” ). We will come back to this question.
Defining the Field at a Given Time**
ferent procedures: One may base one s statement on concKisions from
history {anamnesis)^ or one may use diagnostic tests of the present.
To use a simple example: I wish to know whether the floor of the
attic is sufiiciently strong to carry a certain weight. I might try to
gain this knowledge by finding out what material was used when the
house was built ten years ago. As I get reliable reports that good
material has been used, and that the architect was a dependable man,
I might conclude that the load probably would be safe. If I can find
the original blueprints, I might be able to do some exact figuring and
feel still more safe.
Of course, there is always a chance that the workmen have actually
not followed the blueprints, or that insects have weakened the wood¬
work, or that some rebuilding has been done during the last ten
years. Therefore, I might decide to avoid these uncertain conclusions
from past data and to determine the present strength of the floor by
testing its strength now. Such a diagnostic test will not yield data
which are absolutely certain; how reliable they are depends upon the
quality of the available test and the carefulness of testing. However,
the value of a present test is, from the point of view of methodology,
superior to that of an anamnesis. An anamnesis includes logically
two steps: namely, the testing of certain properties in the past (of
the quality, size, and structure of the woodwork) and the proof that
nothing unknown has interfered in the meantime; in other words
that we have to deal with a "closed system.” Even if a system is left
untouched by the outside, inner changes occur. Therefore, in addi¬
tion, the laws governing these inner changes have to be known if
the properties of a situation are to be determined through an an¬
amnesis.
Medicine, engineering, physics, biology are accustomed to using
both methods, an inquiry into the past and a test of the present. But
they prefer the latter whenever possible.*
Psychology has used diagnosis by anamnesis rather excessively.
There are cases where a historical procedure is preferable. For instance the
.probably be better determined by the duration of starvation than
y a physiological or psychological test of the hunger at the time /. This conclusion
settTnJfpresent can be made, however, only during periods and in
g where a closed system’ (no interference from outside) can be enforced;
tor animals which during this period do the same amount of work, which have
to nnk"thi»difficulties of this type of control have led Skinner
to link the problem of drive strength to properties of present consumption.
50
Field Theory in Social Science
particularly in classic psychoanalysis and other clinical approaches to
problems of personality. Psychology of perception and psychology of
memory have been relatively free from the historical type of diag¬
nosis. Experimental psychology, on the whole, has shown a progres¬
sive trend toward testing the present situation.
The method of determining the properties of a situation (S*) by
testing them at that time / avoids the uncertainties of historical con¬
clusions. It does not follow, however, that this method eliminates
considerations of time-periods altogether. A '‘situation at a given
time ' actually does not refer to a moment without time extension,
but to a certain time-period. This fact is of great theoretical and
methodological importance for psychology.
It may be helpful to go back for a moment to the procedure in
physics. If the vertical lines in Figure i represent the so-called physi¬
cal "world-lines,” a "situation” means a cut through these lines at
a given time /. A description of such a situation has to include (i) the
relative position of the parts of the field at that time; (2) the direc¬
tion and the velocity of the changes going on at that time. The first
task is fulfilled by ascribing certain scalar values to the different en¬
tities; the second, by ascribing certain vectors to them. The second
task contains a difficulty which I would like to discuss.
To describe the direction and velocity of a change going on at a
given moment, it is necessary to refer to a certain period of events.
Ideally, a time-differential should suffice for such determination. Ac¬
tually, one has to observe a macroscopic time-interval or at least the
position at the beginning and at the end of such an interval to deter¬
mine that time-differential. In the simplest case the velocity at a
given time is assumed to equal the average velocity during that
macroscopic time-interval. I will not attempt to follow up the details
of this procedure in physics. If sufficient laws are known, certain in¬
direct methods like those based on the Dopier effect permit different
procedures.
However, it remains a basic fact that an adequate description of a
situation at a moment is impossible without observation of a certain
time-period. This observation has to be interpreted (according to
the "most plausible” assumption and our knowledge of the physical
laws) in a way which permits its transformation into a statement of
the "state of affairs at the time
In psychology a similar problem exists. The person at a given time
Defining the '*Field at a Given Time**
51
Ficure^2. 5 during / « until / + « is a •'closed system”; but S is not genidentic
with 5 . S ’ A js a small time-field-unit which extends over a relatively small area
and includes the relatively small time-period t until t -f- A/- 5'*'*^" is a larger time-
held-ujiit covering a larger area and including the longer period t until t + A'^- P*
and p indicate the change in position of x during the small and the large time unit.
may be in the midst of saying "a.” Actually such a statement implies
already that a certain time-interval is observed. Otherwise, only a
certain position of mouth and body could be recorded. Usually the
psychologist will not be satisfied with such a characterization of the on¬
going process. He likes to know whether this "a” belongs to the
word "can” or "apple" or to what word it does belong. If the word
was "can,” the psychologist wants to know whether the person was
going to say: "I cannot come back" or "I can stand on my head if
52 Field Theory in Socral Science
I have to.” The psychologist even likes to know whether the sentence
is spoken to an intimate friend as a part of a conversation about per¬
sonal plans for the future or whether this sentence is part of a po¬
litical address and has the meaning of an attempt to retreat from an
untenable political position.
In other words, an adequate psychological description of the char¬
acter and the direction of an ongoing process can and has to be done
on various microscopic and macroscopic levels. To each ”size of a unit
of behavior” a different "size of situation" can be coordinated. That
the individual in our example is saying "a," can be made sure with¬
out taking into account much of the surrounding of the individual.
To characterize the sentence as a part of a political retreat, much
more of the surrounding has to be considered.
Without altering the principle of contemporaneity as one of the
basic propositions of field theory, we have to realize that to deter¬
mine the psychological direction and velocity of behavior (i. e., what
is usually called the "meaning" of the psychological event), we have
to take into account in psychology as in physics a certain time-period.
The length of this period depends in psychology upon the scope of
the situation. As a rule, the more macroscopic the situation is which
has to be described the longer is the period which has to be observed
to determine the direction and velocity of behavior at a given time
(Figure 2 ).
In other words, we are dealing in psychology with "situational
units” which have to be conceived of as having an extension in re¬
gard to their field dimensions and their time dimensions. If I am
not mistaken, the problem of time-space-quanta, which is so impor¬
tant for modern quantum theory in physics, is methodologically paral¬
lel (although, of course, on a more advanced level) to the problem
of "time-field-units" in psychology.
The concept of situations of different scope has proved to be very
helpful in solving a number of otherwise rather puzzling problems.
Tolman,® Muenzinger,® and Floyd Allport’^ have stressed that a psy-
® E. C. ToJman: Purposive Behavior in Animals and Men (New York; D. Apple-
ton-Century Co., 1932).
^ K. F. Muenzinger: Psychology: the Science of Behavior (Denver: World Press,
1939)-
^ F. H. Allport. Methods in the study of collective action phenomena, /. Soctal
Psychol., 1942. 165-185.
Defining the ''Field at a Given Time” 53
chological descxiption has to include the macroscopic as well as the
microscopic events. Barker, Dembo, and Lewin® distinguish and treat
mathematically three sizes of units of processes and corresponding
sizes of situations- They have handled certain problems of measuring
the strength of frustration during extended periods by referring to
overlapping situations in regard to two different sizes of time-field-
units. Lippitt and White,® in their study of social atmosphere, dis¬
tinguish still larger periods of events. They have shown that the be¬
ginning and end of these macroscopic units can be determined rather
precisely and with very satisfactory reliability. However, I will not
discuss these questions here, where we are interested in methodolog¬
ical problems only.
The Psychological Past, Present, and Future as Parts of a
Psychological Field at a Given Time
The clarification of the problem of past and future has been much
delayed by the fact that the psychological field which exists at a given
time contains also the views of that individual about his future and
past. The individual sees not only his present situation; he has cer¬
tain expectations, wishes, fears, daydreams for his future. His views
about his own past and that of the rest of the physical and social
world-are often incorrect but nevertheless constitute, in his life space,
the reality-level” of the past. In addition, a wish-level in regard to
the past can frequently be observed. The discrepancy between the
structure of this wish- or irreality-level of the psychological past and
the reality-level plays an important role in the phenomenon of guilt.
The structure of the psychological future is closely related, for in¬
stance, to hope and planning.
Following a terminology of L. K. Frank,we speak of "time per¬
spective” which includes the psychological past and psychological fu¬
ture on the reality-level and on the various irreality-levels. The time
perspective existing at a given time has been shown to be very im-
rLu Lewin: Frustration and regression, Univ. Iowa Stud.
K^htia Welj., 1941, 18, 1-314.
erlu^ experimental study of the effect of democratic and authoritarian
group atmospheres. Untu. Iowa Stud. Child XTelf., 1940, x6. No. 3. 44-195.
L. K. Frank: Time perspectives, /. Social Phil., 1939. 4, 293-312.
54 Field Theory in Social Science
portant for many problems such as the level of aspiration, the mood,
the constructiveness, and the initiative of the individual. Farber^^ has
shown, for instance, that the amount of suffering of a prisoner de¬
pends more on his expectation in regard to his release, which may be
five -years ahead, than on the pleasantness or unpleasantness of his
present occupation.
It is important to realize that the psychological past and the psy¬
chological future are simultaneous parts of the psychological field
existing at a given time /. The time perspective is continually chang¬
ing. According to field theory, any type of behavior depends upon
the total field, including the time perspective at that time, but not,
in addition, upon any past or future field and its time perspectives.
It may be illustrative to consider briefly from this field-theoretical
point of view the methodological problems connected with one of
the basic concepts of the conditioned reflex theory, namely, the con¬
cept of ''extinction.” An individual has experienced that after a cer¬
tain stimulus, let us say the ringing of a bell, food will appear. Being
hungry, the individual eats. After a number of such experiences, the
individual will show certain preparatory actions for eating as soon
as the eating bell rings. The individual is then said to be "condi¬
tioned.” Now, the situation is secretly changed by the experimenter
and the eating bell is not followed by food. After a while the in¬
dividual catches on and does not show the preparatory action for
food when the bell rings. This process is called "extinction."
"Habits" of a person at a given time can and have to be treated
as parts of the present field. Whether they should be represented
partly as cognitive structure or resistance to change of cognitive struc¬
ture, partly as a building up or fixation of valences, or whether they
have to be conceptualized in other ways is not a problem here. Habits
of action, as well as of thinking, are deali with in field-theoretical
research.
As Tolman, Hilgard and Marquis, and others have correctly
pointed out, conditioning as well as extinction are both related to
changes in the reality-level of the psychological future. Field theorists
have to distinguish, in regard to conditioning and extinction, two
types of problems. The one type deals with a question such as how
M. L. Farber: Suffering and time perspective of the prisoner, Univ. Iowa Stud.
Child Welf.. 1944. -20. 155-227.
Defining the **Field at a Given Time** 55
expectation is affected by perception on the one hand, and memory
on the other. What changes in the perceived structure of the psy¬
chological present lead to a change in the structure of the psycho¬
logical future, and what are the laws governing the interdependence
of these two parts of the psychological field? The studies on level of
aspiration have provided some knowledge about the factors which
influence the structure of the future reality-level. Korsch-Escalona^®
has made a step toward a mathematical treatment of the effect of the
future reality-level on the forces which govern present behavior.
Study of the level of aspiration has also given us considerable insight
into the effect of the psychological past (namely of previous success
or failure) on the psychological future. This question is obviously
closely related to extinction.
The methodological position of these types of problems is clear:
They deal with the interdependence of various parts of the psycho¬
logical field existing at a given time /. In other words, they are
legitimate field-theoretical questions of the type b* = F(S^).
The second type of questions, treated in the theory of conditioned
reflex, tries to relate a later situation (for instance, during ex¬
tinction) to a previous situation during learning or to a number
of similar or different previous situations 5®, 5^, • * •: it relates
behavior to the number of repetitions. In other words, these ques¬
tions have the form b* = F(S^-**) or b* = F(S^~’*, ). Here
field theory demands a more critical and more analytical type of
thinking. One should distinguish at least two types of problems:
a. Hov/ the perceived psychological situation will look at the time S*
depends obviously upon whether or not the experimenter will provide food
and on similar external physical or social conditions. Everybody will agree,
I suppose, that these factors cannot possibly be derived from the psycho¬
logical field of the individual at the previous time, even if all the psy¬
chological laws were known. These factors are alien to psychology.
b. There remain, however, legitimate psychological questions in this
second type of problem. We can keep the boundary conditions of a life
space constant or change them in a known way during a certain period
and investigate what would happen under those condi'ions. These prob-
“ S. Korsch-Escalona; The effect of success and failure upon the level of aspiration
and behavior in manic-depressive psychoses, Uniu. Iowa Stud. Child Welf., 1939 16
No. 3, 199-303.
5^ Field Theory in Social Science
lems iie definitely within the domain of psychology. An example is the
problem of restructurization of memory traces. We know that these proc¬
esses depend on the state of the individual during the total period 5*-"
until S* (Figure 2 ) and are different, for instance, during sleep and while
being awake. Doubtless the experiments on conditioned reflex have given
us a wealth of material in regard to this type of problem. They will have
to be treated finally in the way which we discussed in the beginning,
namely, as a sequence of relations between a situation S* and the imme¬
diately following situation 5“****^
On the whole, I think the psychological trend is definitely going
in this direction. For instance, the goal gradient theory was formu¬
lated originally as a relation bet^'een behavior and past situations.
Straight, analytical thinking demands that such a statement should
be broken into several propositions, one of which has to do with the
intensity of goal striving as a function of the distance between indi¬
vidual and goal. This is identical with a statement about certain
force fields and is probably correct. A second proposition implied in
the goal gradient theory links the present behavior to the past situa¬
tion 5^"”. The specific form is, to my mind, unsatisfactory. But even
if it should be correct, it should be treated as an independent theory.
Hull’s formulation of a "Gradient of Reinforcement Hypothesis” is
a step in this direction.
Psychological Ecology
As an elaboration of our considerations, I would like to discuss
some aspects of Brunswik’s treatment of the role of statistics.'® I do
not expect ever to live down the misunderstandings created by my
attack on some ways in which statistics have been used in psychology.
I have been always aware that quantitative measurement demands
statistics. That statement holds also for “pure cases”; i. e., situations
where it is possible to link theory and observable facts in a definite
way. Since psychology is increasingly abandoning the inadequate ob¬
jectives of statistics, further discussion might have little pragmatic
value.
However, Brunswik has brought into the open new and important
E. Brunswik: Organismic achievement and environmental probability, Psychol.
Rev., 1943. 30 - 255-272.
Defining the "Field at a Given Time” 57
aspects, and I feel that their clarification may be helpful for psy¬
chological methodology in general.
Within the realm of facts existing at a given time one can dis¬
tinguish three areas in which changes are or might be of interest to
psychology:
1 . The life space ; i. e., the person and the psychological environment
as it exists for him. \C^e usually have this field in mind if we refer to
needs, motivation, mood, goals, anxiety, ideals.
2 . A multitude of processes in the physical or social world, which do not
affect the life space of the individual at that time.
3 . A boundary zone” of the life space: certain parts of the physical
or social world do affect the state of the life space at that time. The
process of perception, for instance, is intimately linked with this boundary
zone because what is perceived is partly determined by the physical ‘ stim¬
uli , i. e., that part of the physical world which affects the sensory organs
at that time. Another process located in the boundary zone is the “execu¬
tion" of an action.
Bmnswik states correctly: "The 'field' within which Lewin is able
to predict, in the strict sense of the word, is the person in his life
space." Then he proceeds, "But the life space is not to be confused
with geographic environment of physical stimuli, nor with actually
achieved results in the environment. It is post-perceptual, and pre-
behavioral." This statement is partly incorrect, namely, in so far as
perception and behavior, to my mind, are legitimate problems of
psychology. This view is a necessary consequence of the field-theo¬
retical approach according to which the boundary conditions of a
field are essential characteristics of that field. For instance, processes
of perception which should be related to the boundary zone depend
partly on the state of the inner part of the psychological field; i. e.
upon the character of the person, his motivation, his cognitive struc-
perceiving, etc., and partly on the "stimulus dis¬
tribution on the retina or other receptors as enforced by physical
processes outside the organism. For the same reasons, the problems
o physical or social action are legitimate parts of psychology proper
as I" ‘^at I do not consider
^ psychological field at a given time those sections of
he physical or social world which do not affect the life space of the
person at that time. The food that lies behind doors at Z end of a
5 ^ Field Theory in Social Science
maze so that neither smell nor sight can reach it is not a part of the
life space of the animal. If the individual knows that food lies there
this knowledge, of course, has to be represented in his life space,
because this knowledge affects behavior. It is also necessary to take
into account the subjective probability with which the individual
views the present or future state of affairs because the degree of
certainty of expectation also influences his behavior.
The principle of representing within the life space all that affects
behavior at that time, but nothing else, prevents the inclusion of
physical food which is not perceived. This food cannot possibly in¬
fluence his behavior at that time under the conditions mentioned.
Indeed, the individual will start his journey if he thinks the food is
there even if it is actually not there, and he will not move toward
the food which actually is at the end of the maze if he does not know
it is there.
According to Brunswik, it is possible to think in terms of laws
rather than mere statistical rules if one limits the psychological field
in the way described. However, he claims that for this gain one has
to pay "the price of an encapsulation” into a realm of problems
which actually leaves out the most dynamic aspects of psychology.
He wishes to include in the psychological field those parts of the
physical and sociological world which, to my mind, have to be ex¬
cluded. These parts, he states, have to be studied in a statistical way,
and the probability of the occurrence of events calculated.
To my mind, the main issue is what the term ’'probability” refers
to. Does Brunswik want to study the ideas of the driver of a car
about the probability of being killed or does he want to study the
accident statistics which tell the ’’objective probability” of such an
event. If an individual sits in a room trusting that the ceiling will
not come down, should only his "subjective probability” be taken
into account for predicting behavior or should we also consider the
"objective probability” of the ceiling’s coming down as determined
by the engineers. To my mind, only the first has to be taken into
account.
I can see why psychology should be interested even in those areas
of the physical and social world which are not part of the life space
or which do not affect its boundary zone at present. If one wishes
to safeguard a child’s education during the next years, if one wishes
Defining the ''Field at a Given Time'* 59
to predict in what situation an individual will find himself as a result
of a certain action, one will have to calculate this future. Obviously,
such forecast has to be based partly on statistical considerations about
nonpsychological data.
Theoretically, we can characterize this task as discovering what
part of the physical or social world will determine during a given
period the "boundary zone" of the life space. This task is worth
the interest of the psychologists. I would suggest calling it "psycho¬
logical ecology."^^
Some problems of the "life history” of an individual have their
places here. The boundary conditions of the life space during long
as well as short time-.periods depend partly on the action of the in¬
dividual himself. To this degree they should be linked to the psy¬
chological dynamics of the life space. The rest of the calculation has
to be done, however, with other than psychological means.
The essence of explaining or predicting any change in a certain
area IS the linkage of that change with the conditions of the field
at that time. This basic principle makes the subjective probability
of an everit a part of the life space of that individual. But it excludes
the objective probability of alien factors that cannot be derived from
the life space.
For further elaboration of this concept, see Chapter VIII.
IV
Field Theory and Learning
(1942)
TJTJxrijTJTJTjTJxmxnjTJTJTrmjTj"^^
Field Theory
I AM often asked to characterize those essential features of the
field-theoretical approach which distinguish it most clearly from
other theoretical orientations. What are the principal attributes of
field theory? The following characteristics of ^is theory seem to me
particularly important: the use of a constructive rather than classifi-
catory method; an interest in the dynamic aspects of events; a psy¬
chological rather than physical approach; an analysis which starts
with the situation as a whole; a distinction between systematic and
historical problems; a mathematical representation of the field.
I. CONSTRUCTIVE METHOD
Like any science, psychology is in a dilemma when it tries to de¬
velop '‘general” concepts and laws. If one “abstracts from individual
differences,” there is no logical way back from these generalities to
the individual case. Such a generalization leads from individual chil¬
dren to children of a certain age or certain economic level and
from there to children of all ages and all economic levels; it leads
from a psychopathic individual to similar pathological types and from
there to the general category “abnormal person.” However, there is
no logical way back from the concept “child” or “abnormal person”
to the individual case (38).^ What is the value of general concepts
if they do not permit predictions for the individual case? Certainly,
such a procedure is of little avail for the teacher or the psycho¬
therapist.
^ Numbers in parentheses refer to publications listed at the end of this chapter.
60
Field Theory and Teaming 6 i
This problem has been acute in other sciences. In the time of the
Greeks, geometry shifted from a "classificatory” method (which
groups geometric figures according to "similarities' ) to a "construc¬
tive" or "genetic" method (which groups figures according to the
way they can be produced or derived from each other). Ever since,
the "genetic definition" has dominated mathematics. In physics, a
similar development occurred at the time of Galileo (45). Biology
tried to take a major step in this direction when the system of Linnee
was superseded by that of Darwin.
The essence of the constructive method is the representation of an
individual case with the help of a few "elements" of construction.
In psychology, one can use psychological "position,” psychological
"forces,” and similar concepts as elements. The general laws of psy¬
chology are statements of the empirical relations between these con¬
structive elements or certain properties of them. It is possible to con¬
struct an infinite number of constellations in line with those laws;
each of those constellations corresponds to an individual case at a
given time. In this way, the gap between generalities and specificities,
between laws and individual differences, can be bridged.
2. DYNAMIC APPROACH
Psychoanalysis has probably been the outstanding example of a
psychological approach which attempts to reach the depths rather
than the superficial layers of behavior. In this respect, it has followed
the novelists of all periods. Psychoanalysis has not always kept in
line with the requirements of scientific method when making its in¬
terpretations of behavior. What is needed are scientific constructs
and methods which deal with the underlying forces of behavior but
do so in a methodologically sound manner. (The term "dynamic"
here refers to the concept "dynamis” — force, to an interpretation
of changes as the result of psychological forces.)
The points mentioned under the above headings are at least to
some degree recognized by other theories. The next two points, how-
ever, arc more specific to field theory.
3. PSYCHOLOGICAL APPROACH
Field theory, as any scientific approach to psychology, is "behavior¬
istic," if this means the tendency to provide "operational definitions”
(testable symptoms) for the concepts used (49). Many psychologists,
62
Field Theory in Social Science
particularly those who followed the theory of conditioned reflex, have
confused this requirement for operational definitions with a demand
for eliminating psychological descriptions. They insisted on defining
"stimuli” superficially in terms of physics. One of the basic charac¬
teristics of field theory in psychology, as I see it, is the demand that
the field which influences an individual should be described not in
objective physicalistic” terms, but in the way in which it exists for
that person at that time (cf. the concept "behavioral environment”
of Koffka, 32). A teacher will never succeed in giving proper guid¬
ance to a child if he does not learn to understand the psychological
world in which that individual child lives. To describe a situation
objectively in psychology actually means to describe the situation
as a totality of those facts and of only those facts which make up
the field of that individual. To substitute for that world of the
individual the world of the teacher, of the physicist, or of anybody
else is to be, not objective, but wrong.
One of the basic tasks of psychology is to find scientific constructs
which permit adequate representation of psychological constellations
in such a way that the behavior of the individual can be derived.
This does not weaken the demand for operational definitions of
the terms used in psychology, but it emphasizes the right and neces¬
sity of using psychological concepts in psychology.
The properties of the "life space” of the individual depend partly
upon the state of that individual as a product of his history, partly
upon the nonpsychologic—physical and social—surroundings. The
latter have a relation to the life space similar to that which "boundary
conditions” have to a dynamic system. Gestalt theory has much em¬
phasized (perhaps overemphasized in the beginning) certain similar¬
ities between the perceived structure and the objective structure of
the stimuli. This does not mean, however, that it is permissible to
treat stimuli as if they were inner parts of the life space (rather
than boundary conditions), a common mistake of physicalistic be¬
haviorism.
4. ANALYSIS BEGINNING WITH THE SITUATION AS A WHOLE
It has been said frequently that field theory and Gestalt theory are
against analysis. Nothing could be more erroneous. In fact, field
theory criticizes many physicalistic theories for their lack of a thor-
Field Theory and Learning 63
ough psychological analysis (see example later); a great number of
situations have been dealt with much more analytically by the field-
theoretical approach than by any other approach.
What is important in field theory is the way the analysis proceeds.
Instead of picking out one or another isolated element within a situa-
tion» the importance of which cannot be judged without consideration
of the situation as a whole, held theory finds it advantageous, as a
rule, to start with a characterization of the situation as a whole.
After this first approximation, the various aspects and parts of the
situation undergo a more and more specific and detailed analysis. It
is obvious that such a method is the best safeguard against being mis¬
led by one or another element of the situation.
Of course, such a method presupposes that there exists something
like properties of the field as a whole (30), and that even macro¬
scopic situations, covering hours or years, can be seen under certain
circumstances as a unit ( 3) • Some of these general properties—for
instance, the amount of "space of free movement” or the "atmos¬
phere of friendliness”—are characterized by terms which might
sound very unscientific to the ear of a person accustomed to think
in terms of physics. However, if that person will consider for a mo¬
ment the fundamental importance which the field of gravity, the
electrical field, or the amount of pressure has for physical events,
he will find it less surprising to discover a similar importance in
the problems of atmosphere in psychology. In fact, it is possible
to determine and to measure psychological atmospheres quite ac¬
curately (42). Every child is sensitive, even to small changes in so¬
cial atmosphere, such as the degree of friendliness or security. The
teacher knows that success in teaching French, or any subject, de¬
pends largely on the atmosphere he is able to create. That these prob¬
lems have not been properly dealt with in psychology until now is
due neither to their unimportance nor to any specific difficulty in the
empirical determination of atmosphere, but mainly to certain philo¬
sophical prejudices in the direction of physicalistic behaviorism.
5. BEHAVIOR AS A FUNCTION OF THE FIELD AT THE TIME IT OCCURS
It has been accepted by most psychologists that the teleological
derivation of behavior from the future is not permissible. Field
theory insists that the derivation of behavior from the past is not less
^4 Field Theory in Social Science
metaphysical, because past events do not exist now and therefore
cannot have effect now. The effect of the past on behavior can be
only an indirect one; the past psychological field is one of the
"origins” of the present field and this in turn affects behavior. To
link behavior with a past field therefore presupposes that one knows
sufficiently how the past event has changed the field at that time, and
whether or not in the meantime other events have modified the field
again. Field theory is interested in historical or developmental prob¬
lems, but it demands a much sharper analytical treatment of these
problems than is customary, particularly in the theory of associa-
tionism.
6. MATHEMATICAL REPRESENTATIONS OF
PSYCHOLOGICAL SITUATIONS
To permit scientific derivations, psychology must use a language
which is logically strict and at the same time in line with constructive
methods. As late as 1900, much argument was going on as to whether
the use of numbers should be permitted in such a "qualitative” sci¬
ence as psychology. Many philosophers argued against sucn use on
the grounds that numbers are characteristics of the physical sciences.
Today, the use of numbers in psychological statistics is well accepted.
However, there is some opposition to the use of geometry in repre¬
senting psychological situations on the same ground. Actually, geom¬
etry is a branch of mathematics and as such is eligible as a tool in
any science. Certain types of geometry, like topology, are most useful
in representing the structure of psychological situations (39, 40).
Topological and vectorial concepts combine power of analysis, con¬
ceptual precision, usefulness for derivation, and fitness for the total
range of psychological problems in a way which, in my opinion,
makes them superior to any other known conceptual tool in psy¬
chology.
At the moment, field theory is accepted probably by only a minor¬
ity of psychologists. However, there are increasing signs that prac¬
tically all branches of psychology—such as perception psychology,
psychology of motivation, social psychology, child psychology, animal
psychology, and abnormal psychology—are moving in the direction
of field theory much faster than one would have expected a few
years ago.
Field Theory and Learning 65
Learning: A Term with Many Meanings
AND A Disturbing History
The teivcrlearning is a popular one which refers in a more or less
vague way to some kind of betterment. Around 1910, students of
psychology were taught to explain any change in behavior by learn*
ing (which meant improvement in speed or quality), by fatigue
(which meant decrease in speed or quality), or by a combination of
the two. Actually, the term learning refers to a multitude of different
phenomena. The statement, “Democracy, one has to learn; autocracy
is imposed upon the person,” refers to one type of learning. If one
says that the "spastic child has to learn to relax,” one is speaking of
a different type of learning. Both types probably have very little to
do with "learning French vocabulary,” and this type again has little
to do with "learning to like spinach.”
Have we any right to classify the learning to high-jump, to get
along without alcohol, and to be friendly with other people under
the same term, and to expect identical laws to hold for any of these
processes?
The theory of association and its successor, the conditioned reflex
theory, speaks of association in regard to any type of psychological
processes and assumes the laws of association independent of psy¬
chological content. This practice has strengthened the tendency toward
a broad usage of the term learning. Some psychologists identify
learning with any change. Sometime, we hope, psychological theory
will be so advanced that, as in modern physics, a few very general
formulas will permit the derivation of most psychological phenom¬
ena. However, a science cannot reach this state without first having
developed more specific laws, each representing the nature of certain
types of processes.
Today, attempting to find the laws of learning in that broad sense
seems comparable to an attempt by the chemist to develop one chem¬
ical formula for all the material contained in a building instead of
grouping these different materials according to their chemical nature
and finding the properties for each type of material separately. Sim¬
ilarly, the term learning, in the broad sense of "doing something
better than before, is a "practical” term referring to a variety of
66
Field Theory in Social Science
processes which the psychologist will have to group and treat accord¬
ing to their psychological nature.
Within what is called learning, we have to distinguish at least the
following types of changes: (i) learning as a change in cognitive
structure (knowledge), (2) learning as a change in motivation
(learning to like or to dislike), (3) learning as a change in group
belongingness or ideology (this is an important aspect of growing
into a culture), (4) learning in the meaning of voluntary control of
the body musculature (this is one important aspect of accjuiring
skills, such as speech and self-control).
The history of psychology has done much to confuse rather than
to clarify this situation. The classic theory of association, as stated by
such an excellent experimentalist as G. E. Mueller, is based on the
following theorem. If two experiences (or actions) a and b occur
frequently together or in direct contiguity, an association between
them is established. This association is operationally defined as the
probability of producing b if a occurs alone. The strength of this
association is a function of the number of repetitions. Originally,
associationism was concerned with the connection between “ideas”;
in other words, with knowledge or intellectual processes. However,
associationism reached out further and further until it prided itself
on explaining with one law not only the process of rote learning but
any kind of intellectual process, behavior habits, values, and par¬
ticularly directed actions. In other words, association was supposed
to explain both motivation and cognition.
The explanation, following closely Darwinistic ideas of directed
actions as the result of factors which do not contain the concept of
directedness, was considered a particularly important achievement be¬
cause at that time the controversy between the teleological and causal
explanations of behavior was acute. The outstanding characteristic
of a scientific causal explanation was incorrectly seen as requiring the
avoidance of the concept of direction. This view was held in spite of
the fact that one of the basic concepts in physics, the concept
of physical force, refers to a directed entity (a vector, in terms of
mathematics). The development of associationism can well be viewed
as a struggle with this very problem. Ach’s theory of “determining
tendency” and Thorndike’s “law of effect” were attempts to recog¬
nize the particular role which goals, needs, or other “directed” fac-
Field Theory and Learning 67
tors play in behavior without giving up the basic position of asso-
ciationism. Both have singled out one special type of experience
(reaching the goal, getting what is called a ’’reward," or setting up
an intention) as particularly important for the formation of associa¬
tions. Ever since,' leading representatives of the theory of associa-
tionism and conditioned reflex have given goals an increasingly dom¬
inant role in their derivations.
It is probably fair to say today that, in regard to questions of mo¬
tivation, the original position of associationism is all but abandoned.
One is tempted to say that a theory of needs very similar to that ac¬
cepted in field theory has been taken over, although a somewhat pe¬
culiar type of terminology makes this fact less apparent. Instead of
speaking, for instance, of ’’consumption,” conditioned reflex theory
speaks of ’’goal response." This goal response is not defined, as one
might expect, as any reaction to a goal stimulus; rather, the other way
around, all behavior which reduces need tension, and only such be¬
havior, is called goal response (8, p. 6). In two other respects also, a
change in the direction toward field theory is apparent.
a. The theory of conditioned reflex had tried to be behavioristic in
the sense of physicalism and had shied away from all psychological
terms as being unscientific. After heated discussion, the concept
"goal" (53) was finally accepted in spite of its psychological char¬
acter. Today, even terms like "expectation” are admitted to the
vocabulary of the conditioned reflex psychologists (19, 23). In other
words, a trend toward psychological concepts is visible, and it seems
that classic physicalistic behaviorism is slowly being reduced to an
approach which demands the correct technical requirements of oper¬
ational definition.
b. All approaches to psychology are apparently becoming more
and more aware that the theory has to include the particular pattern
of factors existing at a given time. Such a leading conditioned reflex
theorist as Hull (22) recognizes this point. On the whole, however,
this recognition has led toward a complication rather than a clarifica¬
tion of the theory of the conditioned reflex.
In general, one might say that the history of associationism and its
attempt to cover all types of psychological processes by one law has
been much influenced by philosophical considerations (any such at¬
tempt IS necessarily metaphysical in character). It was a correct fight
68
Field Theory in Social Science
against the teleological attempt to derive present behavior from the
future. The desire to replace such an explanation by causal explana¬
tions led to the tendency to derive behavior from the past. This em¬
phasis on the past has contributed much to the overemphasis on the
problem of learning.
Looking back over the history of the experimental studies of the
psychology of learning, the distinction of two main lines of develop¬
ment may help to clarify the still very unclear picture. One line deals
with learning as related to motivation; the other, with learning as
related to cognition.
a. The term habit can be used as a prototype of a concept in which
the classic law of association is linked with action rather than cogni¬
tion and is interpreted as a psychological force of a character similar
to motivational forces. In my view, the most sincere attempt to fol¬
low up the implications of this aspect of associationism was made by
Ach (i). He argued correctly that if repetition creates habits, it
should be possible to measure the strength of the will by measuring
the number of repetitions necessary to overthrow the effect of an
intention to act in a different direction. His positive results have not
been able, however, to stand up. It has been shown (36, 37, 46) that
even an extreme number of repetitions does not form a measurable
obstacle to carrying through a differently directed intention. To
understand the various phenomena, it is necessary to distinguish
"executive habits,” which do not have the character of motivational
forces, from "need habits,” which imply the existence of a need (or
quasi-need) or its fixation on certain valences. In other words, it is
necessary to distinguish the motivational from the cognitive problems,
and to study the laws of each of them in detail. Then the special role
of each type of factor has to be determined for the different con¬
stellations.
Unfortunately, the fact that many learning experiments have been
done with animals has made a clear separation of motivational and
cognitive problems very difficult (2, 34, 50). Adams, Tolman, and
others have stressed this point strongly. The work on latent learning
(7* 53) has been one of the important results of this better con¬
ceptual analysis. However, even today, it is probably more difficult
to distinguish these aspects properly in experiments with animals
than in those with humans.
Field Theory and Learning 69
b. The second line of development deals with the specific laws
which govern learning in the sense of change in cognitive structure.
It becomes more and more apparent that even in this, its original
realm, associationism is much too primitive a theory. The problems
of insight, of acquiring knowledge, and of other kinds of change in
cognitive structure seem to be closely related to those laws which
govern perception (27, 30, 32) and determine the structure of the
perceived field. Doubtlessly, great progress has been made in the
study of these problems.
The lack of clarity in the discussions of learning in relation to
motivation and cognition seems to be connected mainly with the
term memory. It may mean the individual’s views of his own past.
The problems of memory in this regard are part of the problems of
time perspective. On the other hand, speaking about memory proc¬
esses, one may refer to the structural similarities and differences
between life spaces of an individual existing at different times. The
problems of plasticity of the psychological field and of the forces
which create changes are of prime importance for this question. The
relation between memory and learning is highly complex. Following
the experiences of the past is one way of learning from experience.
However, frequently one has to learn not to follow the same pro¬
cedure one used previously; one must learn to be guided instead by
something like a theoretical analysis of the present situation. One
of the reasons for slow progress in social life is that, in the field of
politics, people are more apt to go by the way of tradition than to
follow the second procedure.
Learning as Change in Knowledge
(Cognitive Structure)
I. differentiation of unstructured areas
An individual moves to a new town. Slowly he learns to find his
way around geographically and socially. What are the psychological
changes called learning in this case? The individual arrives at the
depot as a stranger. He may have secured an apartment in advance.
He knows his house number, but standing at the station and failing
to have a map of the town, he does not know how to get there. The
situation corresponds to Figure 3. There is an area corresponding to
70 Field Theory in Social Science
the station (ST) where the person (P) located. There exists an¬
other area in his life space corresponding to the apartment (A).
Between these two areas lies a region which has psychologically the
character of being unstructured (V), that is, the stranger does not
know how to go from the station to his apartment, how far it is, and
how the area around his apartment looks.
This unclearness is of decisive importance for his behavior. He
does not know which streets around the station lead to, and which
lead away from, the apartment. In other words, it is not defined
what “direction” from the station to the apartment means.
The stranger inquires and learns that streetcar D will bring him
directly to his apartment. As the result of his first trip from the
station to his home, some structuralization takes place: “Direction
from the station to the apartment” has become defined as using the
streetcar D\ the newcomer has acquired an impression of the distance
between these points in the city. The streetcar made a number of
Field Theory and Learning 71
turns. As a result, the newcomer is not very clear about the geo¬
graphical position of both points. Still, he knows the direction in the
sense of the "path which can be taken” (Figure 4).
It may be that he has to start to work the very next morning. In
this case, he might learn in a similar way the "functional” relations
between his home and the place of his work. But there will still be
great areas of the city which are unstructured. Probably, at first an
area geographically close to his home will become better known to
him, and slowly the degree of cognitive structuralization will increase
so that finally he will know not only one path from his home to his
work (W) or to the station, but several (Figure 5). He will know
what is the direct route and finally he will be able to determine cjuite
well the direction from any one place to any other in the city. He
will know what the shortest route is for walking or for using an
automobile or the subway.
A similar process of differentiating previously undifferentiated
areas will occur in regard to the social life of the city. In the begin¬
ning, it will be unclear in what direction socially the stranger moves
in approaching a particular person. But more and more he will know
who is who, how the social life of the city is made up, what are the
direct and indirect ways, which social paths are easy and which are
difficult to use. It is probably not necessary to elaborate the similar
process of differentiation which occurs for the student who studies
Greek history. Again, a previously vague and unstructured area
becomes cognitively structured and specific.
Another example of this type of learning is the cognitive change
72 Field Theory in Social Science
of a psychological world as a whole during development. From all
that we know, the newborn cannot distinguish between himself and
his environment; slowly certain areas, for instance, those connected
with eating, take on a specific character, become more and more
differentiated; the parts of his own body become differentiated from
each other and from the rest of the world; social relations develop
and become differentiated; needs, emotions, language go through a
similar process of differentiation (3, 6, 31, 53).
The concept of differentiation is a basic biological concept related
to such fundamental and familiar biological processes as the sub¬
division of the egg into smaller units of more specific character. A
shift from the theory of association or conditioned reflex to a theory
Figurb 6
A,a
of differentiation (or similar changes in structure) means a change
from a physical analogy (namely that of links in a chain) to a more
biological approach. In addition, it seems to be easier to represent
differentiation and other changes in structure in a mathematically
precise way (3) than by the concepts used in the older theories.
Associations, so far as they refer to changes in knowledge, may well
be reinterpreted as relatively simple cases of change in structure.
2. RESTRUCTURIZATJON, PSYCHOLOGICAL DIRECTIONS, MEANING
Not all changes of cognitive structure which we call learning have
the character of differentiation in the sense of a subdividing of regions
into smaller units. Sometimes a change in cognitive structure occurs
Field Theory and Learning 73
without increase or decrease in the degree of differentiation. Classic
examples are the detour problems (29). What is the difference
between the psychological situation of the one-year-old child who
cannot find the way to his goal when he stands within a U-shaped
barrier (Figure 6) and the four-year-old child who has no difficulty
whatever? To state this question in a different form: What psycho¬
logical change occurs at the moment when the child has "insight"
into the solution for the first time?
The difference can partly be described as follows (38) : Before the
solution, the direction (d^. o) from the region A where the child (P)
Figure 7
is located toward the goal G is the same as the direction (dA. to
the barrier B (dA, b ~ d^. o) • Moving in the direction C would at
that time mean for the child going in the direction (dx. -o) "away
from the goal" (dA, c = dA. ^o). The force fA, o acting on the child
in the direction toward this goal leads, in this constellation, to a
tendency to locomote in the direction dA, a- As the restraining forces
of the barrier B are too great, the child is unable to reach his goal.
After the insight (or when the child is old enough), the cognitive
structure of the situation is changed (Figure 7). The areas A and
G, which previously had the character of separated areas, are now
74 Field Theory in Social Science
connected as part of the area C, D, G. A locomotion from yl to C
may be seen as the first part of the path w^. c. d. o. Correspondingly,
the direction toward C (dA, is now equal to the direction toward
the goal G (dA.a) rather than away from G (dA. c = dA. o/ c =
dA. -a) The force /a. o leads now to locomotion from A to C, in line
with this changed meaning of the direction.
This example illustrates how a psychological direction depends
on the cognitive structure of a given situation. Behavior results from
forces which have direction. Therefore, all behavior depends to a
large degree on the cognitive structure of the life space. In an un¬
structured, or new, situation the person feels insecure because the psy¬
chological directions are not defined; in other words, the person does
not know what action will lead to what result.
Learning, as a change in cognitive structure, has to deal with prac¬
tically every field of behavior. Whenever we speak of a change in
meaning, a change of such cognitive structure has occurred. New
connections or separations, differentiations or dedifferentations, of
psychological areas have taken place. The "meaning” of an event in
psychology may be said to be known if its psychological position and
its psychological direction are determined. In Mark Twain’s Life on
the Mississippi, the passengers on the boat enjoy the "scenery,” but
for the pilot the V-shape of the two hills, which a passenger admires,
means a signal to turn sharply, and the beautiful waves in the middle
of the river mean dangerous rocks. The psychological connection of
these "stimuli” with actions has changed, and therefore the meaning
has changed.
One word about the problem of learning and repetition. One
should be careful to distinguish the effect of repetition on motivation
(see below) and on change in cognitive structure. It is correct that
a change in cognitive structure may occur on the occasion of repeated
experience. However, it is important to realize that it is not the
repetition itself but the change in cognitive structure which is essen¬
tial for learning. If the newcomer has a map of the city, the number
of trips from the individual's home to his place of work which is
necessary for the creation of an adequate cognitive structure may be
reduced to a few. According to Krechevsky (33) and others, even
animals learn a maze by a series of changes in cognitive structure,
called "hypotheses.” The above analysis makes it understandable why
Field Theory and Learning 75
gaining sufficient psychological distance from the problem and get¬
ting an over-all view of a broader area (29) are usually more helpful
for creating that change of cognitive structure which corresponds to
the solution of a task than repeating over and over again the same
attempts. Recent experiments show that even in rote learning the
number of repetitions is of secondary importance (19). Mere repeti¬
tion, if carried on frequently enough, has a definite opposite effect
on learning. It leads to disorganization and dedifferentiation which
are typical symptoms of what has been called psychological satiation
(see below). As the result of the satiation, the meaningful will
become meaningless and what has been known may be unlearned.
3. TIME PERSPECTIVE, PSYCHOLOGICAL REALITY AND IRREALITY
The behavior of an individual does not depend entirely on his
present situation. His mood is deeply affected by his hopes and wishes
and by his views of his own past. The morale and happiness of an
individual seem to depend more on what he expects of the future
than on the pleasantness or unpleasantness of the present situation.
The totality of the individual's views of his psychological future
and his psychological past existing at a given time can be called
"time perspective" (15). In addition, one has to distinguish the
dimension of reality-irreality within the psychological life space. The
reality level of the psychological past, present, and future corresponds
to the situation as they actually existed, exist, and will exist accord¬
ing to the individual’s belief.
During development, an enlargement of the time perspective takes
place. The small child lives in the present; his time perspective in¬
cludes only the immediate past and the immediate future. This small¬
ness of time perspective is characteristic of what is usually called
"primitive behavior.” The time dimension of the life space of the
child grows with increasing age; more and more distant future and
past events affect present behavior.
Normal development brings with it, in addition, an increased dif¬
ferentiation in the reality-irreality dimensions of the life space. The
young child does not clearly distinguish wishes from facts, hopes
from expectations (44). The older person is said to be better able to
distinguish between daydream wishes and reality, although wishful
thinking is certainly very common in adults, too.
7 ^ IPield Theory in Social Science
Teachers and educators have been aware of the importance of time
perspective as one of the fundamental aspects of development.
‘'Broadening the pupil's view” has always been considered one of
the main purposes of education. Such an increase in time perspective
can be viewed as one type of change in cognitive structure. There
seem to be no experimental data available on ways in which such a
change can be achieved other than through normal development.
This also holds for the differentiation of the life space in regard to
its reality-irreality dimension.
Some experimental studies indicate several conditions under which
time perspective is narrowed and the difference between reality and
irreality is blurred. An outstanding example is the "primitivation”
under emotional stress. It has been shown (3) that, in an insecure
or frustrated situation, the productivity of a five-and-one-half-year-
old child may regress to the level of a three-and-one-half-year old.
This regression is partly caused by the decreased time perspective
under those circumstances. Orphan children living under great social
restrictions and meager opportunities show a much slower increase
in mental age (and, as a result, a decrease in IQ) than children living
under better conditions {48).
Learning as Change in Valences and Values
In discussing the multitude of meanings attached to the term
learning, we mentioned the following example: Autocracy is imposed
upon the individual; democracy, he has to learn. It may be clarifying
to discuss the meaning of the term learning in this sentence in more
detail.
Learning democracy means, first, that the person has to do some¬
thing himself instead of being passively moved by forces imposed on
him. Second, learning democracy means to establish certain likes
and dislikes, that is, certain valences, values, and ideologies. Third,
learning democracy means to get acquainted with certain techniques,
such as those of group decision.
The last point does not need to be elaborated here because the
problem of learning of techniques (in case one wants to have democ¬
racy) is practically identical with the problem of acquiring knowl¬
edge (i. e., change in cognitive structure, which we have already
Field Theory and Learning 77
discussed) in combination with the problem of execution. The other
two points will now be discussed.
I. LEARNING AND FORCES IMPOSED ON THE PERSON
Progressive education is accustomed to speak of ’’child-driven
activities” as opposed to those activities which the child is compelled
to do. This points to a basic difference in motivation. Teacher, parent,
or society frequently has to face the problem of an individual’s having
certain goals which he should not have or of lacking certain goals
he should have.
There are two principal ways to bring about the desired change.
The one implies a change of the person’s own needs or interests; the
other leaves needs or interests more or less untouched, and compels
the individual to do the undesired action either by direct force or by
setting up a constellation where other stronger needs overbalance the
effect of the first need.
Mere force plays a considerable role in all education. The baby
is not asked by the mother when it is to be taken out of the crib and
when it is to be fed. The students are not asked for their consent in
taking final examinations. We shall mention but a few aspects of
this basic question, (i) A great deal of difference exists in how
gently or how forcefully mothers pick up their babies, and in how
sensitively they observe those small indications of the babies' needs
and desires. This question is closely related to the problem of the
age at which education for democracy should start ( 35) . (2) ’’Learn¬
ing” by force might take place when an individual is pushed into a
situation and then "adapts” himself to this situation. These methods
are frequently used in politics and in education. To make a person
behave in a way which he would resent, a step-by-step method is
frequently applied—a procedure ingeniously employed by Hitler.
The individual is pushed into a situation which is not sufficiently
different from the previous one to create great resistance. After he
has adapted himself, the next step is taken. Jerome Frank (14), in a
study with students, has shown that such a step-by-step method is
considerably more efficient in breaking resistance than the all-at-once
method.
A method frequently used as motivation in learning is reward or
punishment. The theory of association, or the law of effect, treats
78 Field Theory in Social Science
reward and punishment essentially as a linkage between a certain
activity and a pleasant or unpleasant tone. To predict the actual
behavior, one has to see that reward and punishment are psycho¬
logically something more specific. An analytical treatment of the
typical situation of the threat of punishment, for instance, shows the
following constellation. The individual dislikes the activity T (Figure
8). To make him carry out this activity, a second even more disagree¬
able possibility is set up in such a way that the individual has to face
one of them. In other words, the individual is in a particular type of
conflict situation, namely, in a conflict between two forces (fp, -t and
fp. -Pu) away from two disagreeable areas. It can be shown (38, 40)
that such conflicts lead to a tendency to “leave the field” (i), to
run away from both activities. To make the threat of punishment
effective, barriers (B) against this way out have to be established—
barriers strong enough to keep the individual within the conflict
area. These barriers usually consist of social forces imposed upon the
individual by an authority. By detailed analysis of the field in case
of threat of punishment, one can derive the tension resulting from
the conflict, the tendency to fight the authority, and a variety of
other factors. It can also be shown that the space of free movement
has to be sufficiently narrowed down, that a somewhat prisonlike
situation has to be created if the threat of punishment is to be
effective.
Neither the promise of reward nor the threat of punishment
creates the same constellation of psychological forces as a change of
interest in the demanded activity itself. Nor is the difference between
reward and punishment merely that of attaching a pleasant or un-
Field Theory and Learning 79
pleasant tone to an activity. The promise of reward does not require
a prisonlike situation and this permits more freedom to the individual
(38) in other directions. Still, a barrier has to be kept up around the
reward in such a way that the goal cannot be reached save by the way
of the disliked but requested activity. Reward in the end may lead
to an actual change in interest, so that the originally disliked
activity may become liked. The repetition of punishment usually
makes the demanded activity only more hated. However, a state of
apathy and giving*in may be reached, as shown by experiments on
social climates (42).
2. CHANGES IN VALENCES AND VALUES
a. Changes in Needs and Meaning. Anyone who wishes to influence
likes and dislikes has to be aware of the changes of valences which
take place with the changes of needs in the process of satiation or
during development. The individual may be attracted by an activity
like drawing or dancing or going to the movies. If he follows thisxle-
sire long enough, a change in attractiveness results. As in physical
consumption, the psychological “consumption” of the activity satiate.s
the underlying need. Experiments have shown that repetitions beyond
the satiation point lead to variation, inattentiveness, mistakes, fatigue,
and Anally to a complete disorganization; in other words, to an “un¬
learning” in the sense of inability to carry out an activity previously
mastered (26).
Frequently, “learning” to like or dislike certain activities is the
result of the long-range change of needs which takes place during de¬
velopment and seems particularly marked during the so-called crises,
such as adolescence. Oversatiation, too, may lead to a permanent dis¬
like for an activity.
It has been one of the fallacies of classic behaviorism to describe
the character of an activity by its physical aspects only and to neglect
the great effect of the psychological setting. The experiments on satia¬
tion clearly indicate that moving the arm in an identical way by
making certain lines may have different psychological and physio¬
logical effects, according to the meaning of this activity. For instance,
making a pattern of four lines may have become disintegrated and
the arm fatigued as a result of oversatiation. A change to a different
pattern of lines, or to making a picture from these lines, suffices to wipe
8o
Field Theory in Social Science
out the bodily symptoms o£ fatigue and to bring about reorganization
of the activity. To write a paper containing hundreds of letters does
not mean repetition and therefore does not lead as quickly to satiation.
This is one of the reasons why the method of writing and reading by
learning sentences or words is superior to the older method of learning
letters. The modern primer uses stories which ^’progress” although
they are composed of relatively few words and elements. In this way,
positive motivation for learning to read is created or set up.
The valence of an activity depends partly on its meaning and there¬
fore on the cognitive structure. For instance, a child who dislikes a
certain food at home may show no such dislike when getting the same
food at a friend’s party. The most frequent method of changing
valences in education is based on this relation to cognitive structure.
For instance, the mother may try to eliminate a certain behavior by
remarking that only ''bad children do that”; she may induce the un¬
willing child to eat by saying, "One bite for papa, one bite for
mamma, and one bite for baby.” Food preferences in children can be
changed by telling a story in which the disliked food is a favorite
for the hero of the story (9).
The relation between cognitive structure and valence is less obvious
in cases like those where children continue to dislike food when
eating it at home even though they do not mind eating the same food
at the nursery school. For these children, coming to the dinner table
at home has acquired the meaning of going to a fight with mother.
These old "habits” can be changed from one day to another if it is
possible to change the meaning of the activity (52). It is easy to make
an adult do something in a medical setting or as a subject in a psycho¬
logical experiment (14) which he would definitely refuse to do out¬
side of the experimental situation.
The relation between cognitive structure and valence is particularly
striking in what is called "cultural differences.” Cultures are not only
different in regard to what values are recognized; at least as important
is the way different activities are seen as linked. For Mennonite chil¬
dren in Iowa, for instance, work and religion are much more closely
related than for non-Mennonite children in comparable rural areas
(25). Much of advertising and most of propaganda are effective not
by changing needs and values as such but by changing the cognitive
structure in a way which makes the propagandized activity appear to
Field Theory and Learning 8i
be a part of, or a means to, an area which has high value for that
individual.
“I^earning” of new ideologies, or in other words, conversions, is
usually difiicult to bring about partly because of the way in which
needs and cognitive structure are interwoven. An example of a suc¬
cessful change in ideology and social behavior is the retraining of
relatively autocratic recreation leaders into excellent democratic
leaders, as carried out by Bavelas (4)- These leaders had followed
their method of handling groups for five to seven years. The change
took place within three weeks. It was brought about partly by observa¬
tion of other leaders and a detailed discussion of the various possibil¬
ities of the leaders’ reactions to a multitude of situations arising from
group life. In this way, the cognitive structure of the field ‘'leader
behavior” became much more finely differentiated; the individual
became sensitized. The motivational change from skepticism to en¬
thusiasm for democratic procedure cannot be discussed here in detail.
It came about, in part, through the thrill of experiencing what a
democratic group-life can do to children, and through the realization
that one is able to create such an atmosphere. The preceding years had
been for these people a period of low morale, of dissatisfaction with
the insecure position of the W.P.A. recreation worker and the carrying
through of their work as a matter of routine. The new experience
could change the ideology and morale of these people so suddenly
and deeply because it provided worth-while goals and a long-range
outlook to individuals who previously had lived with a time perspec¬
tive which was composed of a disagreeable past, unsatisfactory pres¬
ent, and no positive outlook for the future. In other words, the
retraining was achieved, not in spite of the long-standing bad habits
but, partly, because of them.
The problem of time perspective is closely related to certain changes
in valences or goals which depend on the level of aspiration.
b. Learning and the Level of Aspiration. The level of aspiration
is defined as the degree of difficulty of the goal toward which a person
is striving. Whether or not a person will learn a certain activity is
deeply influenced by his trying or not trying to do so. Therefore, the
factors which determine the level of aspiration are of basic importance
for learning.
The level of aspiration is influenced partly by the ability of the
82
Field Theory in Social Science
individual as manifested in his past and present successes and fail¬
ures (17, 21, 24), partly by certain group standards (12, 17, 20, 43).
By and large, the experience of success and failure occurs only in a
relatively **limited area of difficulties which is close to the boundary
level of ability of the individual. Success and failure influence the ex¬
pectation for the outcome of the future action and raise or lower the
level of aspiration accordingly. However, this “rational” factor is by
no means the only one determining the level of aspiration. A child
below or above the average of the group may permanently keep his
level of aspiration too high or too low for his ability. It has been
shown (12) that the knowledge of one’s own or others’ group stand¬
ards affects the reality- and the wish-level, depending on the degree
to which these group standards are accepted.
Good students tend to keep their level of aspiration slightly above
their past achievement, whereas poor students tend to show, relative
to their ability, excessively high or excessively low levels of aspira¬
tion (47). In other words, the poor students have not learned to be
"realistic” in evaluating success and failure for their goal-setting. Fail¬
ure frequently leads to rationalization, emotional outbreak, over¬
persistency, or rapid discontinuance (17, 28). It has been shown that
children who had the tendency to react to failure by quitting, by ra¬
tionalization, or by emotional outbreak can learn to react more ma¬
turely to such failure (28). This "learning to take it” is certainly one
of the most important aspects of learning as a part of the character
development of the individual.
Summary
This brief survey of problems related to learning has not attempted
to deal with the difficult questions of learning in the sense of volun¬
tary control of the motoric (which would include such matters as
selKcontrol, handling of mechanical or social "tools,” such as speech,
and "action through a distance”). An important approach to the latter
is contained in Heider’s theory of "thing and medium” (18). The
dynamics of these processes seem to be guided by a type of "organiza¬
tional interdependence” (3) similar to the relation between leader
and led or between the so-called higher and lower nerve centers.
Summarizing our discussion from a more dynamic view, we might
Field Theory and Learning 83
say: We have distinguished learning in the sense of change in cog¬
nitive structure from learning in the sense of change in motivation.
I. CHANGE IN COGNITIVE STRUCTURE
A change in cognitive structure may occur in any part of the
individual’s life space, including the psychological future, the psycho¬
logical present, or the psychological past. It may occur on the reality-
level or on the irreality-level (wish- and fear-level) of each of these
sections of the life space.
Establishment or severance of the linkage between two regions of
the life space, with which the theory of association or conditioned
reflex is mainly concerned, is only one type of structural change. A
basic change in structure, both for learning and for long-range de¬
velopment, is the differentiation of previously undifferentiated
regions.
According to field theory, all changes are due to certain forces (di¬
rected entities). In regard to the forces which bring about a change in
cognitive structure, it is convenient to distinguish two types: one
resulting from the structure of the cognitive field itself, and the other
from certain valences (needs or motivations).
a. The first type of forces leading to change in cognitive structure
is very similar to, if not identical with, those forces which govern the
perceptual fields. They must be considered when discussing problems
of figure and ground, of specific patterns and their internal equilibria
(54). We should get accustomed to include within perception psy¬
chology also the perception of the character of other persons and of
social facts. There are a number of indications that the laws which
determine the patterning in perception are more or less the same as
those in thinking and memory. (One should, however, be warned
against too simple an approach. For instance, three developmental
types of cognition are distinguished by Vigotsky £ 5 i]}* situational
thinking, classification, and thinking in theoretical terms. Similar dis¬
tinctions are much emphasized in psychopathology [163.)
b. In addition to the forces resulting from the cognitive structure
as such, the cognitive structure is deeply influenced by the needs of the
individual, his valences, values, and hopes. These forces play an im¬
portant role in the solution of any intellectual task. In fact, a psycho¬
logical force corresponding to a need can be said to have two basic
^4 Field Theory in Social Science
results. It le3.cls either to locomotion of the individual in the direction
of the psychological force or to a change of his cognitive structure in a
way which corresponds to such a locomotion or which facilitates it.
Therefore, all intellectual processes are deeply affected by the goals
of the individual. We have seen that intellectual processes, which can
be viewed as one type of productive activity of the individual, depend
upon his emotional state, that is, the tension, the degree of differentia¬
tion, the size, and the fluidity of the life space as a whole. It is a
corollary of the relation between cognitive structure and perception
that perception, too, is dependent on the needs and emotions of the
individual. The "projective” techniques of studying personality are
making use of this relation.
2 . CHANGE IN MOTIVATION
Learning as related to change in motivation deals either with a
change in needs or a change in the means of their satisfaction. To
these processes belong not only such examples as becoming addicted
to or breaking away from a drug habit, and any ideological conver¬
sion, but also the normal process of acculturation during childhood or
after entering a new social group. Obviously, forces governing this
type of learning are related to the total area of factors which determine
motivation and personality development. We have mentioned here
but a few—the basic laws of needs and satiation, goal structures, the
level of aspiration, and the problem of group belongingness.
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V
Regression, Retrogression, and
Development
(1941)
I N PSYCHOLOGY the term regression refers to a primitivation
of behavior, a "going back” to a less mature state which the
individual has already outgrown. A temporary regression fre<juently
occurs in tense emotional situations with normal adults and children,
particularly if these emotions are unpleasant. Intense joy, too, may
lead to certain primitive actions. Fatigue, oversatiation, and sickness
often cause temporary regression. A more or less permanent type of
regression can be observed in certain cases of senility, in a great variety
of neuroses, and in functional and organic psychoses. Regression,
therefore, has to be considered a common phenomenon which is
related to many situations and problems, and concerns the total be¬
havior of the person rather fundamentally.
The relation between regression and development is another reason
why psychology should regard regression as an important topic.
Knowledge of the process of psychological development has greatly
increased in recent years. We have learned particularly that the varie¬
ties of possible developments are much greater than might have been
expected. However, our knowledge of the factors determining de¬
velopment, its dynamics and laws, is extremely meager. Regression
can be said to be a negative development. The experimental study of
regression seems to be technically somewhat easier than that of
development. Therefore, the indirect way of studying the dynamics
of development by studying regression may prove to be fruitful for
the whole theory of development.
87
88
Field Theory in Social Science
Definition of Regression
The concept of regression was brought to the fore by Freud and
has been widely used in psychoanalytical literature. Freud saw from
the beginning how important the problem of regression is for the
theory of development. His theory of the stages of libidinal organiza¬
tion which marks the development of a person is to a large degree
based on his observations of regression in psychopathology (lo,
p. 285-299).
The term regression in psychoanalysis refers to a great variety of
symptoms. Freud himself uses the term regression mainly to describe
"a return to the first objects invested with libido, which we know to
be incestuous in character, and a return of the whole sexual organiza¬
tion to earlier stages” (p. 287 ). In addition to speaking of ’’regression
of the libido” Freud speaks of ’’regression of the ego” and ’’object-
regression” (p. 299). In other psychoanalytical and psychological
literature the term regression has been used more loosely; for instance,
any kind of withdrawal from reality to a fantasy-level has been called
regression.
Freud himself emphasized that he used the term regression as a
purely descriptive concept (p. 288) and not as a dynamic concept
like repression. Nevertheless, he has brought forth certain ideas
about the factors which makes for regression. According to him two
main conditions for regression exist: (i) fixation of the libido to
objects of a previous developmental state, and (2) difficulties in
satisfying the libidinal needs at the more mature level. Frequently in
the psychoanalytical literature development has been viewed as a
steadily progressing libido and regression as the turning back of this
flow of the libido after meeting an obstacle. A diagram by Korzybski
presents this view (Figure 9). We would like to discuss this repre¬
sentation more in detail with the purpose of clarifying the concept of
regression. The necessity of such conceptual refinement was stressed
by Freud and it still seems to be needed (31).
The problems of development and of regression have their scientific
place at a particular intersection of historical and dynamic problems.
They point on the one hand to a unique sequence of experiences,
situations, personality structures, and styles of behavior during the
history of the individual. On the other hand they point to the dynamics
and laws which govern the behavior in any one of these stages and the
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 89
Rcarc95lOA
Figurb 9. Psychoanalytical Representation of Regression. (Reprinted with the
permission of the publishers from Korzybskt, Alfred: Science and Sanity: An Intro¬
duction to Non-Aristotelian Systems and General Semantics t Lancaster, Pa.: The
International Non-Aristotelian Library Publishing Co., X933.)
transition from one stage to another. The combination of both types
of questions within the problem of development or regression is
entirely legitimate and necessary. However, it is important to clarify
the nature of both problems and their relations.
Abraham uses the following table showing the stages of libidinal
organization, stages in development -of object love, and dominant
point of fixation (taken from Fenichel £8, p. 379}).
Stages of
Libidinal
Organization
Stages of
Development
of Object Love
Dominant
Point of
Fixation in
1 .
Early oral
(sucking)
Autocroticism
(no object)
(pre*ambivalent)
Various types
of schizophrenia
(stupor)
11 .
Late oral
sadistic
(cannibal-
isUc)
'
Narcissism;
total incorpora¬
tion of
object
Manic-depressive
III.
Early anal
sadistic
s
1
§
Partial love
with incorpora¬
tion
Paranoia, paranoid
IV.
Late anal
sadistic
-<
Partial love
Compulsion neurosis
V.
Early genital
(phallic)
Object love
with exclusion
of genital
Hysteria
VI.
Final geni¬
tal
Object love
(post ambiva¬
lent)
Normality
90 Field ^Theory in Social Science
Homburger (15, p. 176) has given a more complete picture of the
possible stages of the libido. Such tables characterize what one might
call particular styles of behavior and arrange them in a certain order.
The person in an early anal sadistic stage is said to show certain
dominant goals, and ways of treating others and himself which are
characteristically different from the styles of behavior at other stages.
The psychoanalytical theory of development states then that normal
development is characterized by a certain order in which styles of
behavior follow each other in the life history of an individual. Sim*
'z.
0 r/NAL
H GENITAL
<
H EARLY
2 GCNITAL
g LATE
^ ANAL
j EARLY
^ ANAL
1 late
B oral
^ early
It. ORAL
o
v>
u
o
5
Age
Figure 10. Stages of libidinal Organization. Schematic representation of regres
sion by means of a systeib of coordinates.
ilarly the concept of regression is based on equalities or similarities
between certain styles of behavior; for instance, the behavior of the
paranoid is said to resemble that of the early anal sadistic stage.
If one were to represent such a life history diagrammatically, one
of the coordinates of the diagram would have to represent time (age
of individual). The second axis would represent the developmental
stage. The actual life history, i.e., the velocity of development and
the time and amount of regression, could then be indicated by a curve
such as that given in Figure 10. The difference between this repre¬
sentation and that of the life history in Figure 9 may appear slight.
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 91
Actually the difference is methodologically rather important. In
Figure 9 the libido is represented as "a turning back,” like a river
or, as Freud says, as a wanderer in new regions who falls back to
earlier camps when he encounters obstacles. The curve representing
progress and regression in Figure 10 never could ''turn back” to a
previous point because time never turns back, and therefore any curve
representing a life history must steadily increase within the time
dimension. The curve in Figure 10 connects points in an abstract
system of coordinates (one of which means time) expressing relations
of similarity and dissimilarity. It legitimately describes the historical
sequence in the style of the behavior of the individual.‘
However, it does not represent the concrete situation (person and
environment) which determines the behavior in any one period, nor
the conditions existing at the time when the regression occurs. This
may suffice to make clear that Figure 10 does not refer to concrete
geographical or psychological settings. The different styles of behavior
existing at different times in the history of an individual cannot be
treated as parts of one field of coexisting areas in which one can
move about, i.e., not as a life space, because a field is a dynamic unity
existing at one time.
Figure 9 would be correct if it were limited to a diagrammatic
description of the type given in Figure 10. However, it represents
in addition the conditions of regression at a certain moment, namely,
the fact that the libido encounters an unsurmountable obstacle.
Freud approaches a field theory of regression when he states that
regression is at least partly due to the inability of the libido to gain
sufficient satisfaction at a more mature level. This assumption might
be called a "substitute theory of regression.” If one refers to the
individual himself instead of his libido one can represent the situation
which is said to underlie the turning back of the libido by a simple
topological diagram (Figure 11). The person P tries to reach a goal
corresponding to a need which is characteristic of a certain level
of maturity. This region C? + is at present not accessible to the individ¬
ual. In other words, there exists a barrier B separating P from O -f*-
If one uses Homburger's classification (15) of developmental stages, a system of
at least three dimensions would be required because the system has to have as many
coordinates as qualities are distinguished in addition to the coordinate representing
time. We have to deal here with an abstract system of coordinates similar to the
"phase space" in physics.
92 Field Theory zn Social Science
Under this condition the person turns (according to the substitute
theory of regression) to another region G' which corresponds to a
less mature level, because the activity G’ seems to promise at least
some satisfaction to the need. According to this theory regression
presupposes a giving up of the attempt to overcome the barrier.
Some psychoanalysts have emphasized this aspect and have called
almost any kind of withdrawal from a real obstacle regression, par¬
ticularly so if the person leaves the level of reality and withdraws
into sickness, fantasy, or irreality. At the moment it is not important
to discuss whether this theory is right or wrong. It will sufiice to
Figure ii. Field Representing the Conditions of Regression (According to Freud’s
Substitute Theory of Regression)
F = person; CJ-t-= original goal; < 7 '=: substitute goal to which the subject re¬
gresses; B = obstacle between P and ( 7 + (barrier) \ a, b, c, . . . regions of the life
space; /p.o = force of the direction of the goal.
say that this is essentially a field theory. It is an attempt to characterize
the situation at a given time and to make the topology of the life space
and certain dynamic properties of its regions (attractiveness, barrier,
etc.) responsible for a certain event.
In summarizing we may state: The problem of regression, like that
of development, includes an historical aspect which refers to the
sequence of styles of behavior in the life history, and a systematic
aspect which refers to the conditions of the change occurring at a
given time. Both questions are entirely legitimate and are necessarily
dealt with in a psychological approach to regression. Both questions
can be represented diagrammatically.
The systematic question concerning the condition of a change which
occurs at a given time has to be answered partly by referring to the
structure and dynamic properties of the field (life space) existing at
that time. The life history can be represented by a sequence of such
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 93
fields, each of which would characterize the situation at a given
historical stage. However, it would destroy the meaning of the field
to treat the life spaces of the newborn, of the three-, six-, and sixty-
year-old person together as one dynamic unity.
When a life history is represented by one diagram we have to deal
with a system of coordinates, one of which refers to time, each of the
others referring to quality of the style of behavior (or the state of the
person). To describe an aspect of the life history by a curve linking
certain points in an abstract system of coordinates is rather common
in psychology and is of course fully legitimate; any curve representing
bodily growth is an example. However, it should be clearly dis¬
tinguished from a field of coexisting and dynamically related facts,
which represents the conditions for the change at a given time. The
mixing up of historical and systematic questions, such as questions of
origin and of conditions, of which Figure 9 is a typical example, has
to be avoided both in diagrams and, what is more important, in
thinking, if the psychology of development and regression is to make
satisfactory progress.
REGRESSION AND RETROGRESSION
The question of the particular character of the substitute activity,
G' (Figure ii), in cases of regression is answered in psychoanalysis
by referring to the history of the individual. The character of G* is
said to be determined by the kind and .degree of fixation at a previous
stage of development. Such a statement is logically entirely legitimate
from the point of view of field theory, although it has to be specified
how the present life space is affected by the fixation which happened
many years ago.
This theory of the form and degree of regression touches a second
conceptual aspect of the problem of regression which needs clarifica¬
tion.
McDougall has given a detailed account of several cases of regres¬
sion from shell-shock. He describes the primitive childlike behavior
of the persons and the process of recovery. McDougall expresses a
certain amount of agreement with the Freudian theory but stresses
two rather important points (28).
I. He emphasizes that the regressed behavior does not need to be
identical with the behavior which this individual has shown pre-
94 Field Theory in Social Science
viously. Rather the regressed person shows a primitive but new kind
of behavior.
2. He considers regression to be of a less "purposive" character
than it appears to be in the Freudian theory.
The possibility of a new kind of behavior occurring in regression
makes it necessary to distinguish two types of changes:
1. The return to a type of behavior characteristic of a previous
stage of the life history of the individual. Such a change may be
called "retrogression."
2. A change to a more primitive behavior, regardless of whether
such behavior has actually occurred within the life history of the
individual. Such a change may be called "regression."
It is frequently true that retrogression will also have the character
of regression, and vice versa. However, this does not need to be the
case. For instance, a child who has shown primitive behavior during
a sickness will, upon recovery, return to the more mature behavior
which characterized him before his sickness. One will have to call
such a change a retrogression, although it cannot possibly be called a
regression.
Clear distinction between retrogression and regression has become
particularly important in view of recent experimental studies with
animals (23, 30). These studies show that animals under certain
conditions, for instance after a shock, may abandon a newly learned
behavior and return to older habits. As far as we can see, none of these
studies can be said to have proved that the older mode of behavior
was actually more primitive than the newly learned one. Before this
is done we would classify these studies as experiments in retrogression
rather than in regression.
We can express the difference between the concepts regression and
retrogression by the following definitions.
. . . may indicate the behavior of an individual or his
state in (psychologically equivalent situations) at the time /i, /2, /3 . . .
Definition of Retrogression. We speak of retrogression if =+= B*^
but B‘^ = B^^. Retrogression refers merely to differences and similar¬
ities in the time sequence without involving statements concerning
"priraitivity,” "adaptability," etc.
Definition of Regression. We speak of regression if B*® is more
"primitive" than B*^. This does not presuppose that B*® = B**.
Of course one will have to discuss the definition of "primitivation"
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 95
and the symptoms that can be used as its indication. It will hardly
suffice to point to such vague criteria as the “less adaptive’’ character
of behavior, particularly in view of the fact that the regression itself
is fre<^uently viewed as an attempt of the individual to adapt himself
to a certain situation. The answer can be found partly in the studies
in psychopathology. These suggest that there is a change from “a
differentiated and pregnant pattern to a more amorphous behavior”
(ii, p. 31). A complicated hierarchical order within an action
changes to a simple organization or to disorganization (6), from an
abstract to a more concrete type of thinking, from reasoning to learn¬
ing (29, 19, 29), from flexible to stereotyped behavior (19, 23).
Primitivation is a change in the structure of behavior which in some
respects seems to resemble the morphological dedifferentiation observ¬
able in certain primitive animals, such as under certain conditions of
malnutrition (9).
Studies such as these go quite far in circumscribing more specifically
what is meant by primitivation. However, they still do not seem to
supply an operational definition of regression througH empirically
testable symptoms which is sufficiently general, and at the same time
sufficiently definite, for experimental procedures. For the purpose
of exploratory research one can define regression as a change of
behavior from a kind typical for older normal children to that typical
for younger normal children (in an equivalent psychological situa¬
tion). Such an operational definition is necessarily limited to the age
range before maturity, because a change from adult to senile be¬
havior has to be regarded as regression but not as progressive develop¬
ment. However, within these limits it provides a definite and testable
criterion for regression. Until the theory of regression is considerably
more advanced it might be well to use this criterion as an operational
definition.^
* One will note that this operational definition does not refer to any behavior
which the individual in question has shown previously in his life history. It refers to
the type of behavior which is characteristic of normal children of certain age levels.
This definition is in no sense final; it is a working definition necessitated by the
current state of knowledge in the field. It has to be used with caution even within
the age range up to maturity because it is at least possible that during certain periods
the normal average child may actually become more primitive in one or another
function. In the long run, the various developmental levels will have to be defined
conceptually in terms of degree of differentiation, organization, and similar proper¬
ties other than age. Eventually the age reference in the operational definition will
have to be dropped entirely, and particular changes occurring under various condi¬
tions specified.
9^ Field Theory in Social Science
Such an operational definition evidently provides the possibility of
determining the amount of regression and the level to which the
person regresses. The latter can be expressed by the age level of
normal children for which this behavior is typical. The amount of
regression can be characterized by giving the age levels for the state
of the individual before and after regression.
Kinds of Regression
Regression of Behavior and of the Person: Pseudo-Regression. A
girl of two years stands before a mirror making herself small, and
tries to find out how she would look if she really were small. The
situation in which this behavior occurs is as follows. The girl has a
baby brother of whom she is envious. She is obviously trying to make
up her mind whether she should try to grow up or grow smaller.
Numerous cases exist in which children in such a situation try to imi¬
tate their younger siblings and begin to show babylike behavior in
their table manners, in their way of crying, or in being naughty, etc.
Is this regression? If we refer only to the face value of this behavior
we may have to speak of regression in line with the definition given
above. The style of behavior has been lowered from a pattern typical
of a three-year level to that of a two-year level. Nevertheless, one
hesitates to identify such a change with regression resulting from
sickness or acute emotional tension. The girl, showing the behavior
of her younger brother, may actually "play a role," although that of
a younger child. This role may be played with the skill of a good
actor, although not as a play but in earnest. It would probably be
fairer to call it refined rather than primitive behavior.
If the child keeps up such a role for a long time he actually may
become primitive. He may lose, at least to some degree, his ability
to act more mature. Until such a state is reached we may speak of a
"pseudo-regression of behavior" without a "regression of the person."
In other words, regression of behavior may or may not be a symptom
of regression of the person.
Similarities of behavior are not necessarily indications of similarities
of the underlying state of the person. That the same state of the
person can manifest itself in rather different symptoms has been shown
in detail in regard to anger (7) and holds for all fields of psychology.
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 97
It follows from the basic formula that the behavior (B) is a function
of the person (P) and the environment (E), i.e., B = F (P,E).
This makes it necessary to distinguish the directly observable "symp¬
toms” (B) from the underlying "state of the person" (P) which
methodologically always have the position of a "construct.”
In connection with developmental states it means that the maturity
level of a person may actually be higher or lower than that indicated
by his behavior. The girl mentioned above is an example of the for¬
mer case. An example of the latter is found in the child who sticks
to certain imposed rules in a way which is typical of a greater
"maturity of aspiration” and shows in consequence in many respects
a more adultlike behavior as a result of firm pressure from the outside;
he will behave on a lower maturity level as soon as the pressure is
released.
The distinction between regression of behavior and regression of
the person is closely related to the necessity of referring to comparable
situations if one wishes to use differences of behavior as symptoms
for differences in the state of the person.
Temporary and Permanent Regression. Regression may last only a
few minutes, for instance in a case of a slight shock, disturbance, or
emotion, or it may last many years, for example as a result of sickness.
Regression may be a slow sinking or a sudden drop. The individual
may stay regressed, he may slowly or suddenly regain his previous
level, or he may return to an intermediate level.
Situational and Established Regression. Under emotional stress
both the behavior and the person may regress to a more primitive
level. In such circumstances the individual is actually unable to behave
on a higher level. Yet even in this case the primitivation may be con¬
fined to a particular situation, such as "being in prison” or "being
severely frustrated.” As soon as the person leaves this particular
situation he may regain his previous level. In other cases the person
may regress in such a way that he will not show his previous higher
level even in a most favorable situation. The former case we will call
situational regression, the latter established regression. There exist,
of course, transitional cases.
It is important not to identify this difference with the distinction
between temporary and permanent regression. A permanent regres¬
sion may result from the fact that the individual is kept permanently
98 Field Theory in Social Science
within one specific situation; a regression may be relatively permanent
and still situational. The terms situational and established regression
do not refer to duration. In case of situational regression the develop¬
mental level fiuctuates greatly with changes in the situation, whereas
the established regression is more independent of such changes. This
distinction is of practical importance for the diagnosis and treatment
of cases, such as in social-psychiatric work with children. It is clear
that experiments with human beings have to be limited to creating
situational regression.
Partial and General Regression. Regression may affect more or less
restricted areas of a person. For example, regression may affect only
the motor functions, or the emotional life of a person, without much
change in his intellectual capacities. Psychopathology gives many
examples of different patterns of regression of specific areas of the
person as well as general deterioration. Of course any regression of
specific areas does, to some degree, affect all behavior of the indi¬
vidual.
Main Differences in Behavior at Different Age Levels
In order to understand the situations which lead to regression, it
will be necessary to develop definite concepts which characterize the
behavior and state of the person corresponding to different develop¬
mental levels. This should be done in such a way as to permit a logi¬
cal derivation of statements in regard to forces which change a person
from the state corresponding to a higher level to the state correspond¬
ing to a lower level. If this task were fulfilled one would have a full
theory of regression which would permit predictions about the
amount and the kind of regression of a given person under various
circumstances.
It is evident that such a goal can be reached only very gradually.
We will try first of all to give a survey of what one might call the
main aspects of behavior differences at the different age levels. We
will then proceed to discuss certain kinds of contructs which may
make possible the conceptual representation of the state of the person
in such a way that at least some of the behavior differences may be
understood, and some conditions of regression derived.
The differences of behavior at different age levels may be classed
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 99
under the following five aspects: variety of behavior, organization
of behavior, extension of areas of activity, interdependence of
behavior, and degree of realism.
VARIETY OF BEHAVIOR
One speaks of the increasing variety of the behavior of a child
as he grows older. (This holds true despite the fact that certain
types of behavior drop out during development.) The increasing
variety of behavior is noticeable in many ways.
a. The behavior of the newborn is more or less confined to sleeping,
crying, drinking, eliminating, and lying awake. The behavior of the grow¬
ing child includes increasingly more types of activities: talking, walking,
reading, etc. The undifferentiated behavior becomes differentiated by a
branching out into a variety of species of action. For instance, an ap¬
proach to a goal is at first always a direct approach. Later on, indirect ways
of approach arise by means of roundabout routes and the use of physical
and social tools. In addition, the direct approach shows more variety, for
instance, in the degree of activeness, the amount of real or gesturelike
behavior, etc. The indirect approach becomes differentiated in regard to
the kind of physical and social tools used. Similar differentiation can be
observed in practically all fields of activities (16). The language of the
individual increases in regard to the number of words used (27, 34), the
types of words used, and the grammatical construction. If one regards
the activities as possibilities that the individual has, one speaks of an
increase in the variety of "skills.”
b. A similarly increasing variety can be observed in the field of emo-
tions (3, 12). Again, primitive undifferentiated emotional expressions
branch out into distinct varieties. At first joy may be difficult to dis¬
tinguish from a grimace caused by stomach trouble. Later, smiling is some¬
thing rather distinct in character and unmistakable. Step by step more
type of smiles arise, such as friendly open smiles, happy smiles, arrogant
smiles, defiant smiles and so on.
c. A similar differentiation can be observed in the field of needs, in¬
terests, and goals. Step by step the few needs of the infant branch out into
a greater variety. This increase is very noticeable during childhood. In
addition, there occurs a shift in the dominance of certain needs.
d. The process of differentiation into a great variety is particularly clear
in the field of knowledge. The comparatively undifferentiated psycho¬
logical world of the infant widens and structures itself in a process which
can be described as differentiation (20). The change in knowledge in-
lOO
Field Theory in Social Science
dudes many cognitive changes which are restructurization rather than an
increase in varieties of areas. However, one of the predominant character¬
istics of the change of knowledge with age, both in regard to learning
and insight, is its increased differentiation, its greater richness.
C- The social behavior and the social relations show an increasing variety.
The number of persons with whom social relations exist increases as do
the types of social interrelations. The relations to different individuals
become more and more articulated as to specific kinds of friendship, de¬
pendence or leadership. A clearer distinction is made between superficial
and deeper attachments.
On the whole then, we may say that the variety of behavior
increases during childhood with normal development. This may be
expressed by the formula:
(i) var (B^^) < var
where var means variety; behavior of the child; B^‘*’behavior of
the adult. To simplify our formulistic representation and to indicate
that we merely wish to characterize the main trends of development,
we will refer in the formulas to two levels only, indicated as Ch
and Ad.
ORGANIZATION OF BEHAVIOR
If development in behavior led merely to an increased variety of
behavior, one might expect the conduct of an individual to become
more and more chaotic or at least more and more unconnected. This
is obviously not the case. Parallel to the increasing differentiation
goes a development according to which an increasingly greater
variety of parts is included in one unit of action. There are a number
of ways in which different actions may become parts of a larger unit
of action. Frequently the unity of a behavior which is carried through
a certain period of time and containing a number of more or less
different subparts is characterized by one leading idea which guides
and controls the parts. This leading idea may be a governing purpose
or the reaching of a goal. The subparts may be certain preparations,
followed by actions which carry the individual to the goal, and finally
certain consummatory actions. In this case, some of the subparts of
the action have the relation of means to an end. The guiding purpose
Regression, Retrogression, and Development loi
may be a precise goal, such as scaling a fence, or a more general
idea, like playing house. In other cases, for instance in many recrea¬
tional or play activities such as reading a book, the various parts
have mainly the character of coordinated subunits.
In connection with all types of unity in behavior that are due to
the guidance or steering of a governing purpose or a leading idea
we will speak of the organization of behavior.® In these cases one
can distinguish at least two levels: the guiding idea and the guided
manipulation.
In development one can distinguish three aspects of the organiza¬
tion of behavior.
Complexity of Units. One can say that the maximum number of
subparts and the variety of subparts contained in one unit of action
increases with development. Instead of handling two building blocks
at a time the child as he grows older uses an increasingly greater
number of building blocks in making a primitive pattern. One
symptom of the greater complexity is the increasing maximum du¬
ration of continuous play with increasing age (5).
Hierarchical Organization. Aside from the increasing number of
manipulations which may be kept together by a guiding idea, the
type of organization itself seems to become more and more compli¬
cated: a goal which steers a series of manipulations may become
the subgoal of a more inclusive goal. The subgoals seem to be
governed by the higher goals in much the same fashion as the actual
manipulation is governed by the subgoal. For instance, the main idea
of playing house may contain a number of subideas; father goes to
work, mother dresses the children, does the washing, etc.,—all
established in a certain sequence guided by the main idea. A subgoal
such as dressing the children may contain dressing Mary and dressing
George. In other words, a more inclusive unit of behavior may con¬
tain a number of hierarchical levels, each of which is ruled by the
next higher level. Referring to the number of levels we will speak
* Frequently the term ''integration” is used in this connection. We prefer to speak
of organization because mathematically integration is the reverse of differentiation.
However, it has been rightly emphasized that psychological "integration” does not
rnean dedifferentiation. It may be better to replace this term by the term "organiza¬
tion.” This use of the term "organization” seems to be well in line with its use in
embryology and also in sociology.
102 Field Theory in Social Science
of different "degrees of hierarchical organization’* of a behavioral
unit.
The maximal degree of hierarchical organization seems to increase
with age, i.e., one unit can contain more levels in older than in
younger children.
Complicated Organization. An activity guided by one idea may
not be carried through as a continuous action but may be interrupted
by other activities and later taken up again. To carry through success¬
fully an activity which is to be repeatedly interrupted obviously
requires a relatively complicated organization. A second kind of
complicated organization exists in overlapping behavior, when
simultaneously two or more activities which are guided by practically
unrelated ideas are carried on. An example of such behavior is
secondary play, i.e., play which occurs simultaneously with other
activities, such as a conversation with a second person about matters
unrelated to the play. Closely related to this is the organization of
behavior which has two levels of meaning. Lying, joking, showing
overfriendly behavior out of hate or similar "perverted expressions’*
are actions on two levels which may be said to be more or less con¬
tradictory. The more overt level frequently serves to cover up the
contrary meaning of the deeper level, and indicates a somewhat
complicated organization of the action. Obviously, the problem of
self-control is closely related to this type of organization.
Lies and jokes are rather early achievements. However, the lying
of the two-year-old child is relatively overt and primitive. The ability
to exhibit this type of complicated organization seems to increase
with age.
It cannot be said that every action of an older child is more highly
organized than every action of a younger child. The behavior of an
older child frequently includes units which are less complicated than
those of younger children. However, the maximum degree of organi¬
zation of behavioral units seems to increase with age; in other words,
we can say:
(2) hier org”^^ (B^^) < hier org”*^
Hier org^^ stands for the maximum degree of hierarchical or¬
ganization; for the behavioral unit of a child; B^^ for the behav¬
ioral unit of an adult.
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 103
EXTENSION OF THE AREA OF ACTIVITIES AND INTERESTS
The psychological world which affects the behavior of the child
seems to extend with age both in regard to the areas and the time
span which are taken into consideration.
Scope of the Field. The three-month-old child living in a crib
knows few geographical areas around him and the areas of possible
activities are comparatively few. The child of one year is familiar
with a much wider geographical area and a wider field of activities.
He is likely to know a number of rooms in the house, the garden, and
certain streets. Some of these areas are accessible to him, others are
not. He may be able to crawl under the table or the couch, but he
may not be able to climb on a certain chair although he would like
to do so. Such areas of his life space lie outside his space of free
movement (25), which is limited partly by his own ability and
partly by social taboos. The child may, for instance, like to tear books.
In this case tearing books is an area in his life space and may influence
his behavior considerably. This is true even though the ’'no" of the
mother keeps the child outside this area of activity. The discrepancy
between the attractive areas of the life space and the space of free
movement is one of the dominant factors determining the level of
aspiration of an individual.
During development, both the space of free movement and the
life space usually increase. The area of activity accessible to the grow¬
ing child is extended because his own ability increases, and it is
probable that social restrictions are removed more rapidly than they
are erected as age increases, at least beyond the infant period. Certain
events, like the arrival of a younger sibling, may well reverse the
balance of change at a given period. However, even at times when
the space of free movement is not increasing, the life space usually
extends with age into new, partly accessible, partly inaccessible
regions. The widening of the scope of the life space occurs some¬
times gradually, sometimes in rather abrupt steps. The latter is char¬
acteristic for so-called crises in development. This process continues
well into adulthood (5).
Time Perspective. A similar extension of the life space during
development occurs in what may be called the "psychological time
dimension." During development the scope of the psychological time
104 F/eld Theory in Social Science
dimension of the life space increases from hours to days, months,
and years. In other words, the young child lives in the immediate
present; with increasing age an increasingly more distant psycho¬
logical past and future affect present behavior.
It may be possible to interpret the increasing extension of the
life space merely as the combination of an increasing variety of
behavior and of different types of organization of behavior. How¬
ever, we prefer to express this change in a separate statement:
(3) L Sp (Ch) <LSp (Ad)
where L Sp (Ch) means the size of the life space of the child; and
L Sp (Ad) the size of the life space of the adult.
Also, for the space of free movement (i.e., the totality of
accessible regions within the life space) it holds on the average that:
(4) SFM (Ch)<SFM (Ad)
where SFM (Ch) means the size of the space of free movement of
the child and SFM (Ad) the size of the space of free movement of
the adult. However, the space of free movement may be narrowed
down during certain developmental periods, such as when a child
is subjected to a rigid regime.
INTERDEPENDENCE OF BEHAVIOR
The statement that the individual becomes increasingly differ¬
entiated can have two meanings. It can mean that the variety of
behavior increases, i.e., that the totality of behavior observable at
a given age becomes less homogeneous. In this case, the term dif¬
ferentiation refers to relations of similarity and dissimilarity; it
means ’’specialization” or ’’individualization.” On the other hand,
the term dfferentiation can refer to relations of dependence and
independence between parts of a dynamic whole. In this case increas¬
ing differentiation means that the number of parts of the person
which can function relatively independently increases; i.e., that their
degree of independence increases.* As we have already discussed the
* In morphology the term “differentiation” is limited to cases where the parts
become not only more independent but also different from each other. It would be
advisable to use two different terms for the two concepts of differentiation. We
shall speak of “specification” or “individualization” in case of increasing dissimi¬
larity, of “differentiation” in referring to increasing independence.
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 105
increasing variety of behavior, we will now turn to the questions of
dependence and independence.
The statement that the child shows a greater unity than the adult
has been emphasized in psychology relatively recently. Previously, it
was customary to consider that the adult exhibited the greater unity,
because in childhood different needs and different areas of activity
may develop more or less independently. The adult on the other
hand is more likely to have these different areas of activity integrated.
Today it is generally acknowledged that the development of the
child includes an increase both in differentiation and in integration.
Development seems to increase the number of relatively independent
subparts of the person and their degree of independence, thus decreas¬
ing the degree of unity of the individual. On the other hand, develop¬
ment involves integration which increases the unity of the person.
As both of these processes advance at the same time, obviously, in¬
tegration cannot be a process which is actually the reversal of differ¬
entiation. It does not eliminate differentiation, and it is not dedif¬
ferentiation. But, integration presupposes differentiation. To avoid
misunderstandings we prefer, therefore, to use the term ‘'organiza¬
tion” instead of integration.
The kind of functional interdependence which underlies the degree
of organizational unity of a person must be different obviously from
that kind of interdependence which underlies the degree of his dif¬
ferentiation. Concepts dealing with interdependence are on the level
of constructs, and any attempt to determine more precisely the dif¬
ferent types of interdependence presupposes a discussion of a number
of constructs. We will approach them after surveying the empirical
data referring to the individual’s increasing differentiation on the
one hand and his increasing organization on the other.
Decrease of Simple Interdependence. ^JC^e start with those facts
which indicate the increasing differentiation of the person.
Differentiation of the Motor Systems. The so-called mass action of
the fetus and infant is a characteristic example of the undifferentiated
reaction of the individual with his whole body rather than with certain
limbs. The development of the child is characterized by an increasing dif¬
ferentiation of the motor functions, indicated by the increasing extent to
which the different parts exhibit relatively independent actions. The de¬
velopment of grasping for example (13) starts with a tendency to approach
io6 Field Theory in Social Science
the object simultaneously with eyes, legs, arms, mouth. Gradually, the
other activities drop out and the child comes to use first his arms and his
hands as relatively undifferentiated units and finally his fingers inde¬
pendently. It is probably fair to say that a young child shows a tendency
to do everything with his whole body to a greater degree than an older
child. The gradual decrease of the so-called involuntary accompanying
movements is but another expression of the same fact. In a child the in¬
crease of tonus in one part of the muscular system is more likely to be
accompanied by tonus in other parts than in an adult. In other words, the
motor system shows an increasing differentiation as regards muscular
tension.
Interdependence of Inner Personal and Motor Regions. A similar de¬
crease in degree of interdependence can be observed in the way needs
or emotions express themselves. The amount of muscular activity in the
infant is a direct function of its hunger (17). It is probably true that for
older children and adults a similar relation exists between hunger and
amount of restlessness, fighting and other emotional expressions. How¬
ever, this dependence is less direct. The satiated infant is whole-heartedly
satiated; he is drunk; his body expresses his state in every aspect, and he
is helpless against its expression. The older child is more self-controlled.
His motor system does not show as openly his needs and his emotional
state. In other words, with increasing age there is less direct interde¬
pendence between the motor systems and the ‘'inner personal systems,”
i.e., those regions of the person which are related to his needs.
The decrease in direct dependence between these two sections of the
person is apparent, also, in the effect which the state of the motor system
has upon ^e inner personal region. With the younger child the mood
and practically every sector of behavior depends more directly on bodily
state, e.g., fatigue, hunger, upset stomach, etc., than with older children.
Interdependence Within the Inner Personal Regions. Certain facts in¬
dicate that the various needs may become less directly interdependent
also. The cosatiation of one need through the satiation of another de¬
creases with age (22). Experiments on substitute value (33) indicate
that the satisfaction of one need is more likely to bring about a general
state of satisfaction in younger than in older children. For older indi¬
viduals the state of tension of the various needs is independent to a higher
Interdependence of Person and Environment, The very young child
is helplessly exposed to the stimuli of the momentary situation. The older
child can more easily place himself above the situation. This difference
has been found to be essential for the conduct of infants and older chil¬
dren in a conflict situation. It is partly the result of the change in time
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 107
perspective, but it indicates also a greater “functional distance” between
the "ego” and the psychological environment. Spencer (35, p. 316) and
more recently Piaget (32, p. 360) have discussed this greater remoteness
or greater "distance” between the central ego of the person and the en¬
vironment (see also i, 14). The growing child becomes differentiated into
an increasing number of more central and more peripheral layers. It is
also true that the "superficial” aspects of things and events in the per¬
ceived environment become increasingly distinguished from their "deeper”
meaning.
The greater distance between the central layer of the ego and the
psychological environment involves a greater independence, or at least
a less direct interdependence between these areas of the life space, namely
the psychological person and the psychological environment. It makes the
child less helpless against the immediate influences of his environment,
and makes the perceived environment less dependent on the mood and
the momentary state of the needs of the child. We know that the adult
will perceive a given physical setting as a different psychological environ¬
ment if his needs, fears, wishes, etc., change. However, the dependence
of the perceived environment on the needs and fears of the individual is
probably more complete and more immediate in the child. Fantasy and
reality, lies and truths, seem to be more interwoven in the child than in
the adult and more so in a younger child than in an older one.
On the whole, then, there are a great number of facts which
indicate that development brings about a differentiation within the
life space of an individual so that certain parts of it become less
directly interdependent. This decrease in direct interdependence is
observable within the motor system of the individual, within his
inner personal regions, in the relation between the inner personal and
the motor regions, and finally in the relation between the inner psy¬
chological regions and the psychological environment. We may
express this observation by the formula:
(5) si uni (Ch) > si uni (Ad),
where si uni (Ch) means the degree of unity of the child as indicated
by the degree of simple interdependence of certain subparts of the
child's life space and si uni (Ad) means the degree of unity of the
adult.
In addition we can state
(5a) dij (Ch)<dif (Ad),
io8 Field Theory in Social Science
where dif (Ch) and dif (Ad) mean the degree of diflFerentiation
of the child and of the adult (see Appendix).
Change in Organizational Interdependence. The increasing dif*
ferentiation of the life space into relatively separated subparts is
somehow counteracted by the increasing organization of the life space.
There is a wealth of material which indicates this increasing organi¬
zation with age. It refers to the increasing scope of coexisting parts
of the life space which can be organized as a unit and the increasingly
larger sequence of actions which are unitedly governed. The latter
point has already been discussed.
Organization of the Motor Systems. Psychologists have collected a great
number of data which reveal the increasing organization of the motor
functions in development. For example, the child’s postural control of
his head, and his learning to sit and to stand; the stages of the development
of locomotion, such as creeping, walking, climbing, running, jumping;
the development of speech; and the control of elimination can all be
viewed as examples of the increasing organization of the various parts of
the motor system for unified action. The organization of different mus¬
cular systems into constellations and of the constellations into sequences
of constellations both show an increase to more and more complicated
types. The precision of motor organization is indicated by the increasing
accuracy of voluntary movements (36, 4). Talking presupposes the organi¬
zation of highly complicated sequences of muscular constellations.
Organization of the Motor System by the Inner Personal Regions. The
relation between the inner personal and the motor regions acquires increas¬
ingly the character of an organization in which the motor functions take
the place of a tool. The following example illustrates this change. A
young child who wishes to perform a manipulation, such as threading a
needle, is likely to get muscularly more tense the more eager he is to suc¬
ceed, even if the task is of such a nature that the muscles have to be rela¬
tively relaxed if the task is to be carried out. In other words, in a young
child a greater inner personal need tension is likely to lead to a higher
muscular tonus. This is in line with the direct, simple interdependence of
the inner personal and motor systems discussed previously.
If the unorganized '‘spreading of tension” from the inner personal to
the motor regions becomes too dominant, it necessarily blocks any orderly
purposeful muscular action. In the '‘organized” dependence of the motor
functions upon the inner personal regions there is not a general increase
in tonus, but rather sequences o^ relaxation and tonus in certain groups
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 109
of muscles occur and are steered in such a way that the pattern of action
and the intensity of tonus is adequate for reaching the objective in the
given setting. This presupposes that the pattern and intensity of muscular
tonus is independent of the intensity of the tension corresponding to the
need behind the action. For threading a needle, the muscles have to be
relatively relaxed, even if the person is most eager to hurry; for carrying
a heavy load the tonus has to be high, even if the need for doing this
work is small. With increasing age the organized interdependence seems
to gain in strength relative to the simple interdependence; and the posi¬
tion of the motoric system as a tool becomes more firmly established.
Organization of the Inner Personal Regions. In discussing the increas¬
ing differentiation of inner personal regions, we dealt with the simple
interdependence of needs, i.e., the spreading of tension. The effect of
the tension within one need system upon the general tension level of the
need systems of an individual (2) can be understood as such a spreading.
The process of cosatiation of one need by the satiation of another need
(18) seems also to have the characteristics of spreading.
It seems, however, that a second type of interdependence between
inner personal regions exists which has the characteristics of an organi¬
zational interdependence: one system may hold the position of a govern¬
ing need, the other the position of a governed need. An individual may
for instance show a great desire to join an art school. This need may be
derived from and be governed by the need for doing art work. The need
to enter the art school may in turn create and regulate a need for fulfilling
certain requirements, such as preparing for an entrance examination; and
this, in turn, the quasi need to buy a certain book in a certain store. In
other words, there may exist a hierarchy of needs so that a more dominant
need rules one or more subordinate needs which in turn dominate subor¬
dinate needs at the next lower level.
Frequently the dominated need is set up by a combination of more
than one governing need. For instance, the need to enter art school may
have its historical source in the need for doing art work and in the
additional need to earn a living for which the school work seems to be
^ preparation. The derived need to enter art school may become more or
less autonomous (i), that is, more or less independent of the needs to
which it can be traced. We wish to stress here that the attempt to secure
the satisfaction of one or more source needs in a given environmental
situation may give rise to a dependent need. This type of dependence
does not involve spreading of tension, but here one need is governed by
another, one need is a tool of another. In other words, this is an organi-
no Field Theory in Social Science
2ationaI dependence similar to that between the motor systems and the
inner personal regions. The hierarchy of organizational interdependence
between needs seems to increase during development.
Organization of the Psychological Environment. The increasing organi¬
zation of the psychological environment by the individual does not need
much illustration. Simple examples of su^ an organization are the use
of some parts of the environment as tools. The growing child becomes
increasingly more able to organize parts of his physical and of his social
environment in this way, and this organization becomes increasingly com¬
plicated, particularly in the social field. The approach to a goal by way of
roundabout routes, instead of by direct action, also exemplifies the ability
of the child to organize intelligently his actions in relation to an increas-
ingly greater scope of his psychological environment. Such organization
presupposes a decrease in the simple dependence of the person upon his
immediate surroundings. For satisfying his needs the infant depends mainly
on the circumstances which arise. Actually he would die if these occasions
were not provided by a grownup. The growing child tries increasingly to
organize his environment so that the satisfaction of his needs is not left
to chance. In other words, the life space containing the psychological per¬
son and his environment tends to become a more highly organized unit.
Such an organization is frequently facilitated by certain ideologies, and
rationalizations which bring certain otherwise contradictory facts and needs
into psychological harmony with each other.
On the whole, then, the hierarchical organization of the life space
increases with age. Such an increase can be observed within the motor
system, within the inner psychological regions, in the relation of the
motor to the inner psychological regions, and in the relation of the
psychological environment to the inner personal regions. We can
express this change through the formula;
(6) hier org (Ch) <, hier org (Ad)
where hier org (Ch) means the degree of hierarchical organization
of parts of the child’s life space, and (Ad) refers to the life space
of the adult. Formula (6) is closely related to (2). The latter refers
to the hierarchical organization of the single unit of behavior, the
former to the hierarchical organization of the individual as a whole.
That the number of hierarchical strata increases during develop¬
ment does not necessarily mean a steady increase in the unity of the
person. The older child does not always show a more harmonious
LOW
D£ORCC or UNITV BASCO ON SIMPLt fNTei?OBP£NOCNCC
HIGH
s ^
M ^
O K
tow
OCOREC
HIGH
HIERARCHICAL ORCANI2 ATION
w a
w 2
Q: ^
o o
^ ft
u o
LOW
O* Age
DEGRre or unitv ba5£o on organizational iNreRocpcNOENce
R«Pfesentation of Certain Changes during Development
of unity based on simple interdependence decreases with age- th
va°rL organizaUon increases stepwise; the degree of organifationa
II2
Field Theory in Social Science
personality or a personality more strictly governed by one center.
One has, rather, to expect ups and downs in the degree of unity of
the person, whereby differentiation tends to decrease the unity from
time to time and organization to reestablish or to increase the unity
on consecutively higher levels. The degree of organizational unity
(org uni) at a later developmental level can therefore be either
greater or smaller than that of an earlier level. We can express this
through the formula:
( 7 ) ^^i
There seem to be great individual differences in regard to the degree
of organizational unity of the grownup.
Finally, one can probably make the following statement in regard
to organization. The importance of processes of organization (inter¬
dependence of the organizational type) seems to increase during
development relative to the importance of simple interdependence
(of the type of spreading tension):
( 8 )
weight (org interdep)
weight (simple interdep) '
weight (org interdep)
weight (simple interdep)
(Ad)
In summarizing the symptoms for the change of dependence of
the different parts of the person (life space) during development,
we present the schematic Figure 12. There are definite indications
of a decreasing unity on the basis of ’’simple interdependence” of
certain parts of the life space and of the life space as a whole, result¬
ing from an increasing differentiation. At the same time, the degree
of hierarchical organization of these parts of the life space and of
the life space as a whole increases. The degree of unity of the person
based on "organizational interdependence" fluctuates.
DEGREE OF REALISM
We have mentioned that during development the perceived en¬
vironment seems to become less "subjectively colored." What is per¬
ceived is less directly dependent on the changing moods and the
needs of the individual. This increasing realism of perception is
particularly noticeable in the perception of social relations. In other
words, reality and fantasy are more clearly distinguished. One might
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 113
view this development merely as an expression of the increased dif¬
ferentiation of the life space, the increasing "distance” between the
ego and the environment, and the increasing hierarchical organiza¬
tion. However, we probably have to deal here with a somewhat
different dimension of change, namely, an increasing crystallization
of an objective world within the life space and an increasing tend¬
ency to be realistic. The world of an insane person may be as highly
differentiated and organized as that of a normal person but may lack
the realism of the latter.
Piaget (32) has discussed in detail the growing realism of the
child's world as shown in his various stages of thinking. A some¬
what parallel process in the held of action shows one of the outstand¬
ing differences between a child’s and an adult's behavior to be that
the child does not "economize” his action to the same degree. To be
efficient, striving to obtain a maximum result with a minimum effort,
is an attitude typical of the older individual. We have to deal here
with a specific organization in reference to the properties of the
objective world.
One can express this change by the formula:
(9) real (Ch) < real (Ad)
where real (Ch) means the degree of realism of the child and real
(Ad) the degree of realism of the adult. However, we are aware
that children are frequently more realistic than adults in some re¬
spects; for instance, they may be less blinded by ideologies. The
statement (9) therefore is made very tentatively, with the intention
mainly of pointing to an important aspect of development.
As main differences in the behavior of the child of different age
levels, we have mentioned changes in the variety of behavior, in the
organization of behavior, in the extension of the life space, in the
unity of the person, and in the degree of realism. We do not, how¬
ever, mean to suggest that these are the only behavioral changes
typical of development.
Behavioral Aspects of Regression
We have defined regression as a change in a direction opposite to
the changes characteristic of development. It follows that changes
114 Field Theory in Social Science
which are the reverse of those we have enumerated as typical of
development should be typical of regression. One can ask whether
this conclusion from our definition of regression and description of
development is in line with the actual use of the term regression. We
will see that this is the case in most, although not in all, instances.
1. If the variety of a person's behavior or the richness of his actions
decreases considerably, one speaks of primitivation in the meaning of
simplification.
2. A decrease in the degree of organizatioft of a behavioral unit may
mean either a decrease in the number of hierarchial levels or a disorgani¬
zation. In the latter case, the parts of the action may be contradictory. In
both cases the breakdown of the organization is likely to be viewed as a
primitivation, as regression of behavior.
3. The same holds true for a dediferentiation and for a decrease of
organization of the person, i.e., those factors which are related to the
unity of the person. A decrease in organization of the person, or a change
from a unity based on organization toward a unity on simple interde¬
pendence (spreading of tension), is most common in those cases where
one speaks about primitivation of the person. They are typical of the
temporary regression observed in strong emotionality and most of the
psychopathological cases of regression.
4. The decrease in the extension of the area of activities and interest
seems to be characteristic of those cases of regression which come up,
for instance, as a result of long unemployment. The unemployed man and
even his children have been observed to narrow their field of activities far
more than economic necessities require. Their time perspective seems to
shrink so that the behavior of the person is more dependent upon the
immediate situation. The shrinkage of the fantasy life seems to indicate
a contraction in the reality-irreality dimension of the life space. Such a
change of the life space, opposite to the extension during development,
certainly represents a primitivation and regression.
We have mentioned that not only the life space as a whole, but also
that part of the life space which is called the space of free movement
usually increases during development. The space of free movement might
narrow down without immediate change in the extension of the life
space. This may happen when a person falls sick, or is placed in prison,
or when a new sibling arrives. Such a change in the proportion of the
accessible to the inaccessible areas in the life space is commonly called
restriction but not regression. It might be appropriate to speak of re¬
gression only in those cases where the scope of the life space as a whole
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 115
decreases. We have pientioned that this frequently happens if a decisive
diminishing of the space of free movement is established for a sufficiently
long time.
5. The outstanding example of a decreasing realism is the shift from
sanity to insanity. A temporary and comparatively slight change in this
direction is the "blindness” to reality, typical of high degrees of emotion.
Usually, also, the "economy of action" breaks down in an emotional situa¬
tion: ffie individual "explodes” without much concern for the efficiency
and adequacy of his behavior as a means to an end.
Such decrease in realism is frequently called primitivation. Certain
authors (37) seem to regard a "withdrawal from reality” as the most
outstanding characteristic of regression. However, an older child may
well develop elaborate fantasies without this being a symptom of primi¬
tivation. On the contrary, the older child usually has a more developed
fantasy life than the younger one. Thus, a more elaborate fantasy life
has generally to be considered as a symptom of differentiation, rather
than of primitivity.
It seems, therefore, necessary to consider carefully the circumstances
of unrealistic behavior before it is evaluated as a symptom of regression.
Maybe what counts is not the actual degree of realism of behavior but
the inability to be more realistic. That would mean that instead of for¬
mula (9) the following formula applies:
(9a) real”^ (Ch) < real”*^
where real”^^ (Ch) indicates the maximum degree of realism which the
child is able to show, and this should be considered the basis for judg¬
ments of the developmental level.
The different aspects of regression, such as the decrease in variety
of behavior and in organization of behavioral units, change in unity
of the person, shrinking of the life space, and decreasing realism,
arc not linked rigidly so that a certain amount of regression in one
aspect always leads to a definite amount of regression in every other
aspect. The various patterns of regression observable in emotion,
bodily and mental diseases, imprisonment, or senility strongly indi¬
cate that the different aspects of regression are, to a certain degree,
independent of each other. On the other hand, there seems to exist
some degree of interdependence so that an individual who is re¬
gressed below a certain level in one respect cannot keep his previous
developmental level in regard to the other aspects.
^ield Theory in Social Science
The Representation of Developmental Levels by Means
OF Scientific Constructs
We have discussed some of the main behavioral properties of
developmental levels. To be able to predict regression, or set forth
a scientific theory of regression, one will have to characterize the
different developmental levels of a person in such a way that the con¬
ditions of regression can be logically derived. Such a scientific repre¬
sentation of different developmental stages should also make under¬
standable the manner in which the various characteristics of a given
stage, such as variety and organization of behavior, unity of the life
space, etc., are interrelated.
The psychological constructs which may be useful for such a task
do not need to be invented de nouveau. A number of concepts (for
example, differentiation) are used by practically everyone working
in this field. What is needed, above all, is a conceptual clarification
of these constructs. As many of these conceptual problems are highly
technical in nature, the discussion of details is placed in the Ap¬
pendix.
If the conceptual representation of developmental stages is to fa¬
cilitate the derivation of the conditions of regression, it will have to
be done in terms which include person and environment; in other
words, in terms of a field theory.
the degree of differentiation of a dynamic whole
We will begin with the concept of differentiation. As mentioned
above, the term differentiation refers either to the variety of behavior
or to a dynamic construct, namely, to the degree of differentiation of
the person, for which the variety of behavior is commonly said to be
a symptom. We will have to consider whether this construct, i.e., this
state of the person, can be represented in a conceptually more precise
form.
General Characteristics of the Concept of Differentiation. Differ¬
entiation Refers to the Number of Parts of a Whole. It expresses a
certain characteristic of a dynamic whole, i.e., it refers to the number
of relatively separated or distinguishable parts contained in a definite
whole and, perhaps, to the degree of separation of these parts. The
mitosis of the egg into two. four, and eight cells, or the latter differ-
Regression, Retrogression, and Development iiy
entiation of the embryo into ectoderm, mesoderm, and endoderm,
are simple examples of a differentiation which can be determined
morphologically.
Differentiation Based on Independence of Parts. Unfortunately,
the psychological degree of differentiation of a person cannot be de¬
termined morphologically. In psychology, the distinction of parts
within the person will have to be done on the basis of a functional
separation of these parts.
How, on the basis of functional independence, a part may be de¬
fined within a whole, and how the number of such parts contained
in a whole may be determined so that one can speak of a definite
degree of differentiation of a whole, is the task which confronts us.
Differentiation as Related to Simple Interdependence Rather than
to Organizational Interdependence. The degree of functional differ¬
entiation which is to be attributed to a given whole depends upon the
type and degree of independence which is being considered.
We will distinguish here but two types of interdependence of parts
in a whole (see Appendix).
1. One type of dependence, which has been called simple dependence,
has the following characteristics. First, it is based on a process which has
the character of “spreading" from one part to neighboring regions accord¬
ing to proximity. Second, the change of the dependent part usually occurs
in the direction of equalizing its state and the state of the influencing
part. For instance, spreading of tension means that neighboring parts
tend to change so that a state of equal tension is approached in all parts.
Third, the dependence of part a on part b is essentially of the same type
(although not necessarily of the same degree) as ^e dependence of
part b on part a.
2. The dependence which has been called organizational interdepend¬
ence shows rather different characteristics. First, it is a type of dependence
between a and b similar to that between leader and led, or between some¬
one using a tool and the tool. In such a case, the way a depends upon b
is obviously rather different from the way b depends on a. Second, the
organizational dependence usually does not work from neighbor to neigh¬
bor like the spreading of tension. It is a selective process: sometimes one
part, sometimes another part of the system is used as a tool in a specific
way. For instance, the same need may produce an organized activity in
different parts of the muscular system. Third, the kind of change result¬
ing from the organized interdependence of a and b usually does not tend
Field Theory in Social Science
to equalize the state of a and b. The subordinate part b (i.e., the part
which is led, the tool) changes in a way which helps a (the leading part)
to reach its objective, but it does not lead to greater £nal equality between
the two.
When we speak of the degree of differentiation of the person, we
will refer only to the first type of dependence, i.e., the one based on
simple interdependence.®
Determining the Number of Cells in a Dynamic 'Whole. Defini¬
tion of the Degree of Independence of Two Regions. Two regions
a and b are neither completely dependent nor independent. The ques¬
tion of independence, particularly of parts within a whole, is a ques¬
tion of degree. It is possible to define the degree of independence of
region a from region b (indep \at h'\) by referring to the amount to
without affecting the state of a
(see Appendix). From this one can proceed to a definition of the
degree of independence of one region from its immediate surround¬
ings.
Differentiation Presupposes Natural Parts (Cells) Within a Whole.
Within a limited homogeneous whole, e.g., a liquid in a container,
one can designate arbitrarily two areas, a and b, which may be in¬
dependent to a considerable degree. Nevertheless, the whole would
not be called differentiated if there were no distinct natural parts.
Such parts can be defined as regions with a high degree of interde¬
pendence of the subregions within one part, but a distinctly lesser
degree of interdependence between the subregions of different parts.
In other words, the concept of a differentiated whole presupposes
the existence of natural parts within a whole. We will call the natu¬
ral parts of the whole "cells" (see Appendix).
We will indicate the degree of independence of a natural cell c
from a neighboring cell n by bo(c, n), to be read: the strength of
the functional boundary of c against influences from n (see Ap¬
pendix).
The degree to which neighboring cells are independent can be
different both within the same whole and for different wholes.
® There is no logical reason for the different properties which we consider typical
of simple interdependence (or organizational interdependence) to be always com¬
bined in this particular way. A more detailed analysis would require a study of the
specific effect of each of these factors.
Which the state of b can be changed
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 119
Wholes which do not show natural parts can be called undifferen¬
tiated.
Both psychologically and biologically, it seems to be characteristic
of most organisms, and certainly it is true for a person, to be com¬
posed of natural subunits. In other words, organisms have a finite
structure; a similar finite structure is characteristic for the life space
as a whole.
The Degree of Differentiation. The degree of differentiation of a
whole can be defined as the number of its cells.
A cell is defined by a certain degree of independence from its
neighbors. The number of separated cells that are distinguishable
within a given whole ('W'J, in other words, its degree of differentia¬
tion [^]Ji depends upon the degree of independence ('jkJ
which its cells must have to be considered two separate cells. The
two values are inversely related.
(10)^//* (i/k)
However, the degree of differentiation usually does not decrease con¬
tinuously with increasing k, but shows points of sudden decrease
where k increases from a value just below the independence of natu¬
ral neighboring cells (bo\^c,n\) to a value just above it (see Appen¬
dix). In other words, the degree of differentiation of a whole is not
an arbitrary matter; it is determined by the natural cells of the
whole. This does not exclude the fact that the degree of differentia¬
tion of a whole is relative to certain arbitrarily required levels of
dependence or independence.
THE UNITY AND THE DEGREE OF DIFFERENTIATION OF A WHOLE
The notion that the growing child shows an increasing differentia¬
tion is based partly on the observation that the unity of the growing
child, as far as it is based on simple dependence (spreading), seems
to decrease. We have discussed a variety of symptoms which indicate
such a change. For a theory of regression it is essential to determine
the conceptual relation between the degree of differentiation of a
whole and the degree of its unity.
Uefnition of the Degree of Unity of a Whole. The term dynamic
uriity of a whole refers to the degree to which the state of one part
within the whole depends upon the state of other parts of that whole.
120 Field Theory in Social Science
The unity of a whole is said to be greater when the degree of inter¬
dependence of its parts is greatest.
Technically, one can define unity in a number of different ways
(for instance, by referring to the average dependence of the parts).
We will define the degree of unity of a whole as the minimum de¬
pendence of any part x on any other part y. In other words, we will
measure the degree of simple unity of a whole (si uni [U^]J by the
degree of dependence (dep) of its least dependent parts.
(ii) si uni (W) = dep”^^^ (x, y)
This definition of the unity of the whole W implies that, if the
state of any part of the whole is changed to a degree greater than
that defining the unity of the whole, every part of the whole is
affected.
The concept of the degree of unity can be used for undifferen¬
tiated as well as for differentiated wholes and for arbitrarily defined
wholes (containing two or more not connected regions). It is, how¬
ever, possible to define '‘natural” wholes by a method similar to that
used for the definition of cells (see Appendix).
The Unity of a Whole, its Differentiation and its Diameter. What
is the relation between the unity of a whole, as thus defined, and
its degree of differentiation? In other words, what is the relation be¬
tween the intimacy with which the state of one cell within a whole
depends upon the state of any other cell of the whole and the num¬
ber of cells contained in this whole?
In the following discussion we will restrict our analysis to wholes
where each cell is dynamically equal to every other cell, particularly
in regard to the degree of independence (bo from the neigh¬
boring cells.
Given the same number of cells, and assuming that any two neigh¬
boring cells show the same degree of independence throughout the
whole, the degree of unity of the whole is obviously smaller, the
greater the degree of independence of the neighboring cells (see
Appendix).
One might expect that the unity of the whole would decrease with
differentiation, that is, with an increasing number of cells. This is,
however, not entirely correct.
Even in the case of the same degree of independence of each cell
I2I
Regression, Retrogression, and J^evelopment
from its neighbor, an increase in the number of cells does not neces¬
sarily lead to a decrease in the unity of the whole. For instance, the
degree of differentiation of the whole W in Figure 13 equals 6
while that of W” equals 12. Nevertheless, the degree of unity of
both wholes is the same. In other words, the unity of a whole de¬
pends not only on the degree of independence of each cell and the
number of cells, but also upon the way these cells are grouped; that
is, it depends also on the structure of the whole.
Figure 13. Central and Peripheral Layers of a Whole
W\ whole with one central and six peripheral cells, i, central cell; 2, 3, . . . 6,
peripheral cells. IF’", whole with one central and twelve peripheral cells, i, central
cell; 2, 3. • . . 12, peripheral cells W is more differentiated than W but the
degree of simple unity of both wholes is the same.
The more detailed discussion in the Appendix shows that the
structural factor which is decisive for the unity of the whole is the
maximum "hodological distance” (26) between any two cells within
the whole (measured by the minimum number of steps from one
cell to another). We will call this maximum distance between any
two cells of the whole the "diameter” of the whole.
If the cells of the whole are otherwise equal, the degree of unity
of the whole is inversely related to the degree of independence of
neighboring cells and the diameter of the whole.
(12) si uni (W) ^ \ ^
\bo(c,n),e^^^j
122
Field Theory in Social Science
The Increasing Independence of Cells during Development. It
should be possible to relate the decreasing unity of a person during
development to his increasing differentiation or, more correctly, his
diameter. Actually, however, a second factor seems to play a role.
Kounin’s study (22) on cosatiation of individuals of the same men¬
tal age, but of different chronological ages, shows that individuals of
similar degrees of differentiation may nevertheless differ in regard
to the degree of independence of corresponding regions within the
person. This study is one more indication of the increasing inde¬
pendence of neighboring cells or, as Kounin says, of the growing
rigidity of the individual with age.
One can coordinate to different states of tension of neighboring
cells certain forces at the boundary between these cells. The strength
of these forces will depend on the degree of the difference of these
states. The degree of independence of two neighboring cells can
then be conceived of as correlated to the maximum difference in ten¬
sion which can be maintained by the boundary. In other words, it
can be correlated to the maximum difference between the strength of
the forces on each side of the boundary, or what may be called the
maximum strength of resultant boundary forces.
This representation permits a convenient formulation of the rela¬
tivity of dependence; two cells within a whole may be dependent
in regard to strong resultant boundary forces and independent in
regard to weaker forces. This implies that the degree of differentia¬
tion of a given whole is an inverse function of the strength of the
forces relative to which the cells have to be independent (see For¬
mula 13a). In other words, we look for dedifferentiation (regres¬
sion) when the resultant forces are too great (see Appendix).
stratification: central and peripheral LAYERS;
INNER AND OUTER LAYERS
In terms of the concepts discussed thus far it is possible to dis¬
tinguish different layers within a whole. Psychologists have made use
of the concept of layers, particularly in referring to more central and
more peripheral layers. This distinction has been found to be rather
important in connection with needs and in consideration of the ac¬
cessibility of the person.
One can distinguish two types of layers based on different char-
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 123
acteristics. We limit the discussion again to the simplest case where
all cells have the same dynamic properties within the whole.
Central and Peripheral Layers. The maximum distance from a
cell c to any other cell y within a whole is usually not the
same for every cell. From some cells it is possible to reach any other
cell in relatively few steps. For instance, for the cell i in Figure 13
this maximum distance equals i; for any other cell it equals 2. Those
cells within the whole for which this distance is equal to the diameter
of the whole will be called "peripheral cells," and their totality, the
Figure 14. Outer and Inner Layers of a Whole
The outer layer contains cells i, 2, 3, 10, 18, 17, 16. 13, 5, 4; the ist inner layer
contains cells 6, 7, 8, 9, 15, 14; the and inner layer contains cells ii, 12.
peripheral layer of a whole. Starting from this peripheral layer
we can distinguish more and more central layers (see Appendix).
In Figure 13 the most central layer is the cell i.
Because of its position, a central cell is relatively more influential
than a peripheral cell. The minimum change of a cell necessary to
affect every other cell is smaller in a central cell. In this way the state
of the whole depends more on the state of the central cells.
At the same time, central cells are, on the average, more easily
affected by a change anywhere in the whole. In this way they are
more "sensitive" to the state of the whole.
It is obvious that these facts may be linked to some of the prop¬
erties commonly attributed to psychologically more central layers. It
should, however, be emphasized that we do not deal here with the
124 Field Theory in Social Science
relation of ruling and ruled, but rather with relative importance
based on simple interdependence.
The degree of unity of the central layer taken by itself is greater
than the unity of the whole (if this whole has also peripheral cells).
Figure i 5 > Case in Which a Central Cell is Part of the Outer Layer of the Whole
Central layer contains cells 3, 7, 8» because the maximum distance to another
cell y within the whole is e"" = 2 for these ceils. For the peripheral cells
=3, because this cell only has no common boundary with the whole. The
inner layer contains only cell 8. The cells 3 and 7 are outer cells in spite of being
central.
Inner and Outer Layers. The degree of centrality of a cell deals
with the question of how easily the cell is affected by changes within
the whole The question may be asked concerning the effect of the
position of a cell on its being influenced by changes outside the
whole. This can be answered by distinguishing inner and outer layers.
Cells which have a common boundary with the boundary of the
whole can be called "outer” cells, and their totality the "outer layer”
of the whole (Figure 14). Starting from the outer layer one can
distinguish, in a similar way, more and more inner layers (see Ap¬
pendix). It is entirely possible that the increasing distance between
the ego and the environment which we have mentioned above is
partly related to the increasing stratification of the person during
development.
Cells which are central are frequently located in an inner layer.
However, this is not necessarily so; a central cell may belong to the
outer layer (see Figure 15).
Regression, Retrogression, and Development 125
INHOMOGENEITY AND VARIETY OF THE STATE AS A WHOLE
One of the outstanding behavioral characteristics of development
is, as we have seen, the increasing variety of behavior. Dynamically,
the greater variety of behavior will have to be linked to a greater
variety of patterns of states which can be realized in a given or¬
ganism.
Homogeneity, Differentiation, and Unity of a Whole. A highly
differentiated whole can be very homogeneous: the state of tension,
for instance, of every cell may be the same throughout the whole.
However, there exists a relation between the maximum difference
in the state of any two cells and certain aspects of the differentiation
of the whole. A more detailed discussion shows (see Appendix)
that the maximum inhomogeneity within a whole, that is, the great¬
est difference of the state of any two parts, is closely related to its
diameter and to the degree of independence of neighboring cells.
The maximum inhomogeneity is an inverse function of the unity of
the whole.
Variety of Patterns. The number of patterns of states which can
be realized within a given whole depends upon the degree of in¬
dependence of the cells, upon the diameter, and in addition, upon
the number of cells, that is, the degree of differentiation of the
whole (see Appendix).
Our discussion of dynamic wholes thus far has been based on
rather general properties. To link these properties with the actual
behavior of a person, one has to consider the more specific charac¬
teristics of an organism. It is possible with most organisms to speak
of something like a normal state. Biologically and psychologically,
there are limitations to the change of the state of a cell beyond which
the boundary between the cells, or the cells themselves, will be de¬
stroyed and the organism will die. This fact limits the change in
the state of the cells of a living whole to a relatively narrow range
and to definite absolute levels. It sets very definite limitations to the
variety of patterns which can be realized within an organismal whole.
If a cell or a larger part of the whole is kept on a fixed level by
outside influences or such factors as a need in tension, the variety of
possible patterns decreases. In other words, the flexibility and rich¬
ness of behavior is reduced. The degree to which the variety of pat-
126
Field Theory in Social Science
tern decreases depends, for a given whole, mainly upon (r) the
degree of centrality of the cell which is kept on a certain level, (2)
tlie degree to which this level deviates from the normal state, and
(3) the number of these cells (see Appendix). A reduction of the
variety of behavior can be viewed as a regression. Therefore, these
factors are of importance for the understanding of regression.
THE DEGREE OF HIERARCHICAL ORGANIZATION
We have distinguished between two types of dependence, simple
dependence and organizational dependence. Having discussed differ¬
entiation, unity, and variety of pattern as a function of simple de¬
pendence between the parts of a whole, let uS turn to a discussion of
the properties of a whole based on the organizational dependence of
its parts.
The ”leader-led” relation, which is characteristic for organizational
dependence, may be represented with the help of the concept '‘power
field.” This concept, which has shown its usefulness in social psy¬
chology, indicates the ability of one person to induce forces acting
on another person. One can distinguish the strength and the scope
of the power field. It is one important aspect of the relation between
leader and led that the power field of the "leader” over the "led” is
stronger than that of the "led” over the "leader.”
One can apply this concept to parts of a whole and distinguish
"leading” and "led” cells by referring to their power fields. For in¬
stance, the forces acting on the cells of the motor region can be said
to be induced by the power field of cells belonging to the inner per¬
sonal region (25).
Cells which rule other cells may themselves be ruled by a third
group of cells. One can define the degree of hierarchical organization
of a whole by the number of strata each of which rules a ruled
stratum.
THE ORGANIZATIONAL UNITY OF A WHOLE
A conceptual clarification of what is meant by organizational unity
is a necessary but rather difficult task. This term is usually linked to
considerations of "harmony” or "efficiency.” A well-organized unit
is a whole which has one and not two or more competing "heads.”
One speaks of a "disorganization,” or lack of unity also if the execu-
Regression, Retrogression, and Development
tive organs do not obey or do not readily obey the inducing power
of the leading regions.
It seems to be possible to represent both aspects of organization
by a relatively simple formula which refers to the strength of the
power field of that part of the whole which has the function of head
in relation to the strength of the power field of the rest of the whole
(see Appendix).
To some degree the organizational unity of a whole depends
on the properties of its "ruled” cells, the "executive” in Koifka's
sense (21).® This would be maximal if the executive had the prop¬
erties of a good medium as defined by Heider (14), i.e., if it were
composed of a great number of relatively independent parts, the state
of which could be easily changed. This point is important for the
conditions of regression.
Probably the efficiency of the executive organs as a medium in¬
creases during childhood, at least in early childhood. But the num¬
ber of heads of the hierarchical organization probably does not show
a simple steady progress. In certain periods the whole person may
be governed by one head and its organizational unity will be cor¬
respondingly high. The region which functions as a head may, how¬
ever, diflferentiate into relatively independent cells and this will de¬
crease the organizational unity of the child. Later on, a new head
may emerge, and later further differentiation of the new head may
follow, etc. In this way the hierarchical organization of the whole
would increase, while at the same time its degree of organizational
unity would periodically decrease and increase with the differentia¬
tion and organization of its head. That development of behavior fre¬
quently proceeds through periods of more harmonic and more
unharmonic stages (crises) may be taken as an indication of the cor¬
rectness of this view.
EXTENSION OF THE LIFE SPACE
The scope of the life space can be represented with conceptual
means developed elsewhere (see Chapter 6). One may distinguish
three main dimensions of extension. One deals with the scope and
differentiation of that area which for the individual has- the character
* By this term KofFka does not mean the "head” which leads but that part of the
system which executes.
128
Field Theory in Social Science
of the present reality. The second deals with increasing differentia¬
tion in the reality-irreality dimension. The third deals with the
extending psychological time dimension, i.e., with the extending
’’psychological past" and "psychological future" which exist as parts
of the life space at a given time.
Regression of behavior should result if the scope of the reality-
level of the life space is narrowed down, or if its psychological time
dimension or its reality-irreality dimensions are reduced. Moreover
a change in behavior showing some characteristics of regression
should result if the functional connection between the reality- and
irreality-level is severed, i.e., if the link between fantasy and action
is cut.
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1. Allport, Gordon W.; Personality: A Psychglogical Interpretation (New
York: Henry Holt St Company, 1937).
2. Birenbaum, Gita: Das Vergessen einer Vornahme. Psychol. Forsch., 1930, 13,
218-284.
3. Bridges, K. M.: The Social and Emotional Development of the Preschool Child
(London: Kegan, Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1931).
4. Bryan, William L.: On the development of voluntary motor ability, Amer.
/. Psychol., 1892, 3, 123-204.
5. Buhler, Charlotte: From Birth to Maturity: An Outline of the Psychological
Development of the Child (London: Kegan, Paul, 1935).
6. Cameron, Norman: Reasoning, regression, and communication in schizo¬
phrenics, Psychol. Monogr., 1938, 30, No. i, 1-34.
7. Dembo, Tamara: Der Arger als dynamisches Problem, Psychol. Forsch., 193*1
13, I-I44-
8. Fenichel, Otto: Outline of Clinical Psychoanalysis (New York: Psycho¬
analytic Quarterly Press, 1934).
9. Fletcher, John M.: The wisdom of the mind. Sigma Xi Quarterly, i938» 26,
6-16.
10. Freud, Sigmund: Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis. Trans, by Joan
Riviere. 2nd ed. (London: Allen St Unwin, 1933).
11. Goldstein, Kurt: The Organism (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1939)*
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Monogr., Series No. 9.
13. Halverson, H. M.: An experimental study of prehension in infants by means
of systematic cinema records. Genet. Psychol. Monogr., 1931, ro, 107-286.
14. Heider, Fritz: Ding und Medium, Symposion, 1927, r, 109-157.
15. Homburger, Erik: Configurations in play: Clinical notes, Psychoanalyt. Quart.,
*937. <5, 139-214.
16. Irwin, Orvis C.: The amount of motility of seventy-three newborn infants,
/. Comp. Psychol., 1932, *4. 4*5-428.
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17. Irwin, Orvis C.: The distribution of the amount of motility in young infants
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19. KlOver, Hbjnrich: Behavior Mechanisms in Monkeys (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1933).
20. Koffka, Kurt: The Growth of the Mind: An Introduction to Child Psychology.
Trans, by Robert Morris Ogden. 2nd ed. (New York: Harcourt, Brace &
Company, 1928).
21. Koffka, Kurt: Principles of Gestalt Psychology (New York: Harcourt, Brace
& Company, 1935).
22. Kounin, Jacob S.: Experimental studies of rigidity. Character & Pets., 1941,
9, 251-282.
23. Krechevsky, 1 .: Brain mechanisms and variability I, II, III, /. Comp. Psychol.,
1937, ^3, 121-159; 351-364.
24. Lashlby, K. S.: Brain Mechanisms and Intelligence: A Quantitative Study of
Injuries to the Brain. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1929).
25. Lewin, Kurt: Principles of Topological Psychology (New York: McGraw-
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logical forces, Cont. to Psychol. Theory, 1938, x. No. 4.
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Macmillan Company, 1922).
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in rats, /. Comp, l^eurol., 1932, 54, 45—75.
30. Miller, Neal E., and Stevenson, Stewart S.: Agitated behavior of rats
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Psychol., 1936, 2x, 205-231.
31. Mowrer, O. H.: An experimental analogue of "regression" with incidental
observations on "reaction formation," /. Abnorm. & Social Psychol., 1940,
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32. Piaget, Jean; La Construction du Reel ehez I’Enfant (Neuchatel: Delachaux,
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33. Sliosberg, Sarah: Zur Dynamik des Ersatzes in Spiel und Ernstsituationeo,
Psychol. Forsch., 1934, 19, 122-181.
34. Smith, M. E.: An investigation of the development of the sentence and the
extent of vocabulary in young children, Univ. Iowa Stud, in Child Welf.,
1926, 3, No. 5.
35. Spencer, Herbert: The Principles of Psychology. 2 Vols. (London: Williams
fie Norgate, 1872).
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dren: An experimental study in the control of hand and arm movements,
Univ. Iowa Stud, in Child. Welf., 1925, 3, No. 4.
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editor: A Handbook of Social Psychology (Worcester: Clark University
Press, 1935).
VI
Field Theory and Experiment
in Social Psychology
(1939)
iTLTirLrLnTLrLrLrLrLriJTLrL^^
T he sociologists, I suppose, have reason to be satisfied with the
recent trends in psychology. Traditionally, most psychologists
seem to have felt more or less obliged to emphasize the biolog¬
ical character of the individual, to believe in the reality of physical
and physiological processes, but to be rather suspicious of social cate¬
gories and to regard as mystic those who claimed that social facts
were as real as physical ones.
Recently, however, a growing number of psychologists seem to
have abandoned this view. They seem to be persuaded that social
facts are equally or even more important for psychology than the
so-called "physiological facts." These psychologists recognize that
the child from his first day of life is objectively a part of a social
setting and would die within a few days if he were to be withdrawn
from it. Also, the so-called "subjective" psychological world of the
individual, his life-space, is influenced in a much earlier stage by
social facts and social relations than anyone would have expected a
few decades ago. Already, at a few months, the child seems to react
to mother person’s smile and voice in a rather specific way. It is
probably safe to say that the child is able to perceive and to dis¬
tinguish the friendliness and unfriendliness of another person at an
earlier age than he is able to distinguish the pattern of physical lines
in a countenance which expresses these social attitudes.
Beginning with this early age, the child’s behavior is molded in
every respect by his social situation. Of course, his morale, his re-
130
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 131
ligiofi) and his political values are determined by his being a part of,
and reacting to, the society in which he lives. If one considers the
findings of cultural anthropology and of experimental psychology,
one can, I think, establish evidence that social influences enter every
action of the individual, even actions which seem to have nothing
to do with society.
Human behavior is either a directed action or an emotional ex¬
pression. Experimental psychology has shown that the formation of
goals depends directly upon the laws which govern the level of aspira¬
tion, particularly upon the effect which success or failure has in rais¬
ing and lowering the level of aspiration. These experiments make it
evident that the level of aspiration is greatly influenced by such so¬
cial facts as the presence or absence of other persons or by the com¬
petitive or noncompetitive character of the situation. It has been
shown, too, that goal-setting depends upon certain ideal goals, upon
what the sociologists call the "ideology” of the person. Cultural
anthropology proves that these ideologies vary extremely among dif¬
ferent cultures. As to emotional expression, experiments have shown
that, for instance, the emotional reaction to failure can be changed
to a great extent by appropriate praise or change in social atmosphere.
This substantiates the general thesis^ that the management of tension
by the individual depends upon his particular social and cultural set¬
ting.
From this it should be apparent that experimental psychology is
instrumental in helping the sociologists to realize their most ardent
dream: the demonstration of the fundamental, direct, and widespread
effect of social facts on behavior.
There is a growing number of psychologists who emphasize the
historical,” social side of psychological facts; and even the hard-
boiled believers in a stimulus-reaction psychology show a peculiar
interest in getting as much of, and as close to, social facts as they can.
I believe there is no longer any need for the traditional opposition
between psychologists and sociologists in this basic issue.
I
Unfortunately, this insight into the social dependency of behavior
does not end the problem for the psychologist. His problems rather
'L. K. Frank: The management of tensions. Am. f. Sociol., 1928, 33, 705-736.
132 Field Theory in Social Science
begin here. For the sociologist, too, they should begin here. Psy¬
chology, including social psychology, cannot possibly be satisfied with
any "generalities" (however correct they may be). It has to judge
scientific concepts and theories largely by their ability or inability to
handle problems of dynamic interdependence and to handle them
in a manner sufficiently specific to attack the concrete tasks of the
laboratory or the clinic.
Of course, for hundreds of years the belief was prevalent that
personality, will, and emotion were not subject to strict laws and
that they could not be studied experimentally. A similar view is
traditionally strong in sociology. In the long run, however, dira
necessitas is bound to be stronger in both sociology and psychology
than those metaphysical prejudices, and sociology seems to be ready
now for important steps away from these prejudices. Psychology as
a science might be said to be somewhat more advanced technically
and conceptually, at least in some of its areas. However, on the
whole, and particularly in regard to social psychology, it too is facing
the task of developing a general approach which offers specific con¬
ceptual tools for solving the concrete problems of a vast and diversi¬
fied area.
Social psychology indicates, probably better than any other part
of psychology and of sociology, what is needed. Its progress depends
upon overcoming certain major difficulties, which include at least
the following:
a. The integrating of vast areas of very divergent facts and aspects: The
development of a scientific language (concepts) which.is able to treat
cultural, historical, sociological, psychological, and physical facts on a
common ground
b. The treating of these facts on the basis of their interdependence
c. The handling of both historical and systematic problems
d. The handling of problems related to groups as well as to individuals
e. The handling of all "sizes" of objects or patterns (social psychology
has to include problems of a nation and its situation, as well as of a
play group of three children and their momentary struggle)
f. Problems of "atmosphere" (such as friendliness, pressure, etc.)
g. Experimental social psychology will have to find a way to bring the
large-size patterns into a framework small enough for the technical
possibilities of experimentation
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 133
The variety of facts which social psychology has to treat might
really seem frightening to even a bold scientific mind. They include
"values” (such as religious and moral values), "ideologies” (such as
conservatism or communism), "the style of living and thinking,”
and other so-called "cultural” facts. They include sociological prob¬
lems, i.e., problems of group and group structure, their degree of
hierarchy and type of organization; or such problems as the difference
between a rural and an urban community, their rigidity or fluidity,
degree of differentiation, etc. They also include so-called "psycho¬
logical" problems, such as the intelligence of a person, his goals and
fears, and his personality. They include such "physiological” facts
as the person’s being healthy or sick, strong or weak, the color of his
hair and of his complexion. They include, Anally, such "physical”
facts as the size of the physical area in which the person or a group
is located.
It is utterly fruitless and merely a negative scientific treatment to
put these facts into classificatory pigeonholes, however accurately
built and fitted they may be. It is widely accepted today that we need
positive means of bringing these various types of facts together in
such a way that one can treat them on one level without sacrificing
the recognition of their specific characteristics. The problem of ado¬
lescence which we will discuss as an example shows, I think, par¬
ticularly clearly that a way must be found to treat bodily changes,
shift of ideology, and group-belongingness within one realm of sci¬
entific language, in a single realm of discourse of concepts. The
question is "How can this be done?”
Behaviorism has tried to answer this question by interpreting
everything as a conditioned reflex. One of the main reasons for the
appeal of such an approach is the same as that which lies behind the
popular appeal of the "unity of science” idea: namely, it appeared
to put every problem on a "physiological” basis (although in fact it
did not), and in this way it seemed to promise integration of the
divergent facts on one level.
Today most research workers in sociology and social psychology
will agree that the program of describing and explaining social-
psychological processes by concepts and laws of physics or physiology
might at best be something to talk about as a distant possibility for
134 Field Theory in Social Science
a speculative philosopher. But such a way would definitely not be a
realistic research program for attacking the social-psychological prob¬
lems of today. On the other hand, to elaborate on the "fundamental
differences" between physics, sociology, and psychology and to rest
satisfied with such distinctions is no help either.
To discuss these problems adequately would involve a more thor¬
ough treatment of certain questions of comparative theory of science
than is possible here. As far as I can see the solution lies in the
direction (a) that a science should be considered a realm of prob¬
lems rather than a realm of material; (b) that the different realms
of problems might necessitate different universes of discourse of
constructs and laws (such as those of physics, esthetics, psychology,
and sociology); and (c) that any one of them refers more or less
to the same universe of material.
For any practical purpose of research—and that, after all, is what
counts—sciences like sociology or psychology should feel fully free
to use those types of constructs which they think most adequate for
handling their problems; and they should attempt to find the integra¬
tion we have discussed on their own level. They should not feel
obliged to use constructs of another science merely out of philosoph¬
ical reasons (e.g., because some philosophies or popular metaphysics
apply "true reality" to physical entities only). On the other hand,
feeling confident in their own right, those sciences do not need to
be afraid of using methods or concepts (e.g., mathematical concepts)
which might or might not have similarities with those of other
sciences.
The field-theoretical approach is intended to be a practical vehicle
of research. As is true with any tool, its characteristics can be under¬
stood fully only by the use of it in actual research. Therefore, in¬
stead of stating general methodological principles in abstractum, I
prefer to discuss, as an illustration, the problem of adolescence and
the definition of a social group. The purpose in discussing them is
not the proving of certain facts or theories (which might or might
not be fully correct) but to survey certain major aspects of the field-
theoretical approach as applicable to social psychology. In discussing
these examples I will therefore, from time to time, point to similar
aspects in other problems.
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 135
11
We have chosen the problem of adolescence because the changes
in behavior which are supposed to be characteristic for this period
seem, at first sight, to give excellent backing to a biological view in
sociology. Obviously, adolescence has something to do with sexual
hormones and with certain periods of bodily growth. The more re¬
cent treatments of the problem of adolescence, however, seem to em¬
phasize its social aspect. They point particularly to the fact that the
behavior typical of this age is rather different in different societies.®
Considerable argumentation has been advanced for and against both
views.
However, it does not help much to argue whether adolescence is
a biological or psychological effect. It does not help much either to
try to describe, on a statistical basis, to what degree this problem is
biological or psychological in nature. Even if an answer could be
found, it would be of as little value as, for instance, the determining
of the degree to which heredity and environment aflFect intelligence.
We still would not have gained any insight into the way in which
bodily and social factors are working together and against each
other, integrating the concrete behavior of the adolescent. It would
seem to be more fruitful to start with an analysis of the setting in a
concrete case. This case should be chosen not so much according to
the frequency of occurrence as according to the amount of insight it
offers into a constellation which is typical at least for a part of the
setting in question.
In regard to the problem of adolescence, it might be helpful to
refer first to cases which show the so-called "typical” difficulties of
adolescent behavior. A field-theoretical analysis of such a situation
should give some hints as to what conditions would increase or de¬
crease these symptoms.
The period of adolescence can be said to be a period of transition.
It seems to imply, at least under certain circumstances, a more rapid
or deeper shift than the period before. After the rather important
changes around the age of three years, often a more stable situation
* See, for example: Luella Cole: Psychology of Adolescence (New Vork: Farrar
« Rinehart, 1936); E. B. Reuter: The Sociology of Adolescence, Am. J. Sociol.,
> 937 , 43 > 414-427.
136
Field Theory in Social Science
h
Figure i6 . Comparison of the space of free movement of child and adult. The
actual activity regions are represented. The accessible regions are blank; the inac¬
cessible shaded. («») The space of free movement of the child includes the regions
z—6, representing activities such as getting into the movies at children’s rates, be¬
longing to a boy’s club, etc. The regiqns 7-3^ are not accessible, representing
activities such as driving a car, writing checks for purchases, political activities,
performance of adults' occupations, etc. {b) The adult space of free movement is
considerably wider, although it too is bounded by regions of activities inaccessible
to the adult, such as shooting his enemy or entering activities beyond his social or
intellectual capacity (represented by regions including 59-33). Some of the regions
accessible to the child are not accessible to the adult, for instance, getting into the
movies at children’s rates, or doing things socially taboo for an adult which are
permitted to the child (represented by regions r and 3).
has arisen. Maybe minor crises have come up; but particularly in
cases where the adolescence is characterized by special disturbances,
a relatively quiet or stable time might have preceded it. If one tries
to characterize the nature of the transition, one can point to several
aspects.
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 137
a. One can view adolescence as a change in group-belongingness.
The individual has been considered by himself and by others as a
child. Now he does not wish to be treated as such. He is ready to
separate himself from things childish and to try seriously to enter
adult life in manners and in outlook on occupation, as on life in
general. Any change in belongingness from one group to another is
of great importance for the behavior of the person; the more central
for the person this belonging is, the more important is the change.
A shift in group-belongingness is a ’’social locomotion,” that is, it
changes the position of the person concerned.
It is a simple fact, but still not sufficiently recognized in psychology
and sociology, that the behavior of a person depends above all upon
his momentary position. Often, the world looks very different before
and after an event which changes the region in which a person is
located. That is the reason why, for instance, a jait accompli is so
feared in politics. A change in position, for instance, the locomo¬
tion from one group to another, changes not only the momentary
surroundings of a person but more or less the total setting: what
has been a neighboring region, easily accessible from the previous
position, might now be farther away or no longer accessible at all.
On the other hand, different regions are now neighbors, and new
ones may be accessible. The shift into the group of the adults, for
instance, makes possible certain activities which previously were for¬
bidden but which are now socially permitted. The individual might
attend certain parties, have access to certain activities. On the other
hand, certain taboos exist for the adults that do not exist for the
child (Figure 16, a and b").
The change from the group of children to that of the adults is
a shift to a more or less unknown position. Psychologically, it is
equivalent to entering an unknown region, comparable to coming
into a new town. Experiments in the field of learning, for example,
give some kind of picture of the fundamental differences between a
situation which is familiar to an individual and that which is un¬
familiar. The unfamiliar can be represented psychologically as a
cognitively unstructured region. This means that that region is not
differentiated into clearly distinguishable parts. It is not clear there¬
fore where a certain action will lead and in what direction one has
to move to approach a certain goal. This lack of clearness of the
138 Field Theory in Social Science
direction in the field is one of the major reasons for the typical "un¬
certainty of behavior" to be found in unknown surroundings. Studies
on social pressure and on ascendant and submissive behavior® clearly
indicate that an individual in an unfamiliar surrounding is less ready
to put up a fight or to show ascendant behavior. An unfamiliar sur¬
rounding is dynamically equivalent to a soft ground. Or, to be more
specific, the lack of a cognitively clear structure is likely to make
every action a conflicting one. The individual, not knowing whether
Figure 17. The space of free movement of the adolescent as it appears to him.
The space of free movement is greatly increased, including many regions which
previously have not been accessible to the child, such as freedom to smoke, returning
home late, driving a car (regions 7-9, rr—73, . . .). Certain regions accessible to
the adult are clearly not accessible to the adolescent, such as voting (represented by
regions 10 and 16). Certain regions accessible to the child have already become in¬
accessible, such as getting into the movies at children’s rates, or behaving on too
childish a level (region 7). The boundaries of these newly acquired portions of the
space of free movement are only vaguely determined and in themselves generally
less clearly and sharply differentiated than for an adult. In such cases the life space
of the adolescent seems to be full of possibilities and at the same time of uncertainties.
the action will lead him closer or farther away from his goal, is
necessarily uncertain as to whether or not he should carry it out.
The child’s development naturally leads to an opening up of new
unknown regions. Periods of transition are characterized by more
than the usual impact of such new regions. Entering a new social
group can mean something very similar to being thrown into a
cognitively unstructured field, being forced to stand on unfirm ground
and not knowing whether the "right thing" is being done. The un-
® L. M. Jack: An experimental study of ascendant behavior in preschool children,
Vniv. loxva Stud. Child i 9 .^ 4 » 9 > 3 *
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 139
certain character of the adolescent’s behavior and his conflicts can
partly be explained by the lack of cognitive clarity concerning the
adult’s world which he is going to enter (Figure 17). It follows
that this uncertainty is greater the more the individual has previously
been kept out of the adult world and has been kept in the dark
about it.
c. One region particularly close and important to the individual
IS his own body. Psychologically one’s own body can be treated in
some respects in the same way as one’s environment. Generally the
individual “knows” his body sufficiently. That means he knows
what he can expect from it and how it will react under given cir¬
cumstances. The time of sexual maturity brings with it changes
which make the individual sometimes disturbed by his own body.
More or less strange and new body experiences arise and make this
part of the life space, which is so close and vital to the individual,
strange and unknown. In this case the change does not mean merely
the usual uncertainties of a new and strange environment; but, in
addition, a region which previously appeared to be well known and
reliable becomes now unknown and unreliable. This change neces¬
sarily shakes the belief of the individual in the stability of the ground
on which he stands and perhaps even in the stability of the world at
large. Since the region of the body happens to be very important
and central for anyone, this doubting might be rather fundamental.
It might lead, on the one hand, to increased uncertainty of behavior
and to conflicts; on the other, to the aggressiveness of some of the
adolescent reactions.
Such explanation would be in line with the findings of L, B.
Murphy^ that insecure situations lead both to highly aggressive and
highly sensitive behavior. The disastrous effect which the breakdown
of a previously firm ground might have is dramatically illustrated
by foster-children, who discover at a late age the true facts concern¬
ing their parentage. The trauma of such a collapse of a social ground
sometimes permanently destroys their belief in the world.
d. The "radicalism” which makes some adolescents flock to ex¬
treme left” or "right” political parties and be extreme in many
judgments has to deal also with a second factor. A period of radical
L. B. Murphy: Social Behavior and Child Personality: An Exploratory Study of
ome Hoots of Sympathy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1937).
14® Field Theory in Social Science
change is naturally a period of greater plasticity. The very fact that
a person is in the state of moving from one region A to a new re¬
gion B, and is therefore cut loose from the region A but not yet
firmly established in the region B, puts him in a less stable position
and makes him, as any object in statu nascendi, more formative.
The psychological environment has to be regarded functionally as
a part of one interdependent field, the life space, the other part of
which is the person. This fundamental fact is the keynote of the
field-theoretical approach. In psychology it has become, in various
forms, more and more recognized and can be expressed simply by
the formula: Behavior = Function of person and environment =
function of life space (B — F £F,£} = F [L Sp^)’ instability
of the psychological environment leads, in some respects, therefore,
to greater instability of the person. "Being established" means hav¬
ing a well-defined position and definite relations to the many regions
of a highly differentiated life space: under such circumstances any
major change means a great number of steps and a shift of interre¬
lation. In an unestablished, new situation the field is not very much
differentiated, and whatever differentiation has occurred is not very
firm. The shift of position of the individual from one region to
another, which in the less differentiated field might be merely one
step (Figure 17), would have to be considered a major change
(equivalent to many steps) in a more differentiated field (Figure
16,^). Similarly, what in reality is a not very great and easily made
shift in cognitive structure of the ideological field of the adolescent,
which contains relatively few regions, appears to be a radical shift to
the adult, with his highly differentiated cognitive field. The difference
in cognitive differentiation is probably one of the reasons why ado¬
lescents easily go to extremes.
e. The widening of the life space into unknown regions concerns
not only geographical surroundings (interest in traveling, hiking,
etc.) and social surroundings (more inclusive social groups like po¬
litical or occupational ones) but also the time dimension of the life
space. Persons of all ages are influenced by the manner in which
they see the future, that is, by their expectations, fears, and hopes.
The scope of time ahead which influences present behavior, and
is therefore to be regarded as a part of the present life space, in¬
creases during development. This change in time perspective is one
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 141
of the most fundamental facts of development. Adolescence seems
to be a period of particularly deep change in respect to time per¬
spective.
The change can be partly described as a shift in scope. Instead of
days, weeks, or months, now years ahead are considered in certain
goals. Even more important is the way in which these future events
influence present behavior. The ideas of a child of six or eight in
regard to his occupation as an adult are not likely to be based on
sufficient knowledge of the factors which might help or interfere
with the realization of these ideas. They might be based on relatively
narrow but definite expectations or might have a dream- or playlike
character. In other words, "ideal goals" and "real goals" for the
distant future are not much distinguished, and this future has more
the fluid character of the level of irreality.
In adolescence a definite differentiation in regard to the time per¬
spective is likely to occur. Within those parts of the life space which
represent the future, levels of reality and irreality are gradually being
differentiated. That which is dreamed of or wished for (level of
irreality in the future) becomes separated from what is expected
(level of reality in the future). Vague ideas have to be replaced by
more or less definite decisions in regard to preparation for future
occupation. In other words, one has to "plan”: to structure the time
perspective in a way which is in line both with one’s own ideal goals
or values and with those realities which must be taken into account
for a realistic structuring of the plane of expectation.
This task is characteristic for all kinds of planning. The situation
of the adolescent in this respect is particular only in that he has to
form the time perspective in regard to a field which is especially
great and unknown. What he learns from books and adult counsel
about what an individual might accomplish is full of contradiction:
the adults praise the hero who has realized what seemed to be im¬
possible, and at the same time preach the moral of "standing with
both feet on the ground.”
In another respect the adolescent finds the adults (the group he
is to enter) full of contradiction. A variety of conflicting religious,
political, and occupational values is obviously powerful within that
group. A child may fail to bring to adolescence a well-established
framework of values, or he may have thrown the values of his child-
142
V 'teld Theory in Social Science
a
Figure i8. The adolescent as a marginal man. {a) During childhood and adult¬
hood the •'adults” {A) and "children” (C) are viewed as relatively separated
groups, the individual child (cS c*) and the individual adult (4^ <**) being sure of
their belonging to their respective groups, {b) The adolescent belonging to a group
{Ad) which can be viewed as an overlapping region of the children’s (C) and the
adults' {A) group belonging to both of them, or as standing between them, not
belonging to either one.
hood away. In either case the structure of his adolescent time per¬
spective will be unstable and undetermined, owing to the uncertainty
of not only what can be done (which we have discussed previously)
but also what should be done. The uncertain character of the ideals
and values keeps the adolescent in a state of conflict and tension
which is the greater the more central these problems are. The wish to
structure these fields in a definite way (and in this manner to solve
the conflict) seems to be one of the reasons behind the readiness of
the adolescent to follow anyone who offers a definite pattern of
values.
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 143
/. The transition from childhood to adulthood may be a rather
sudden shift (for instance, in some of the primitive societies), or it
may occur gradually in a setting where children and adults are not
sharply separated groups. In case of the so-called "adolescence diffi¬
culties," however, a third state of affairs is often prevalent: children
and adults constitute clearly defined groups; the adolescent does not
wish to belong any longer to the children’s group and, at the same
time, knows that he is not really accepted in the adult group. In this
case he has a position similar to what is called in sociology the "mar¬
ginal man."
The marginal man is a person who stands on the boundary (Figure
18, b') between two groups, A and B. He does not belong to either
of them, or at least he is not certain about his belongingness. Not
infrequently this situation occurs for members of an underprivileged
minority group, particularly for the more privileged members within
this group. There is a strong tendency for the members of the under¬
privileged minority group to cut loose and to try to enter the majority
group.® If the person is partly successful in establishing relationships
with the privileged group without being fully accepted, he becomes a
marginal man, belonging to both groups but not fully to either of
them. The fact of being located in a social "no man’s land" can be
observed in very different types of minority groups—for instance,
racial groups or the hard-of-hearing, which is a marginal group be¬
tween the deaf and the normal group.
Characteristic symptoms of behavior of the marginal man are
emotional instability and sensitivity. They tend to unbalanced be¬
havior, to either boisterousness or shyness, exhibiting too much ten¬
sion, and a frequent shift between extremes of contradictory behavior.
The marginal man shows a typical aversion to the less privileged
members of his own group. This can be noted in the hostile attitude
of some subgroups of the Negroes or other races against members of
their own race, and the hard-of-hearing against the deaf.
To some extent behavior symptomatic for the marginal man can
be found in the adolescent. He too is oversensitive, easily shifted
frorn one extreme to the other, and particularly sensitive to the short¬
comings of his younger fellows. Indeed, his position is sociologically
®Kurt Lewin: Resolving Social Conflicts (N'w York: Harper & Brothers 1048)
See especially Chapter 11.
144 Field Theory in Social Science
the same as that of the marginal man; he does not wish to belong any
longer to a group which is, after all, less privileged than the group
of adults: but at the same time he knows that he is not fully accepted
by the adults. The similarities between the position of the members
of the underprivileged minority and the adolescent, and between their
behavior, seem to me so great that one might characterize the behav¬
ior of the marginal members of the minority group as that of perma¬
nent adolescence.
We might sum up our discussion of the adolescent in the following
manner:
a. The basic fact concerning the general situation of the adolescent
can be represented as the position of a person during locomotion
from one region to another. This includes (i) the widening of the
life space (geographically, socially, and in time perspective), and (2)
the cognitively unstructured character of the new situation.
b. Somewhat more specifically, the adolescent has a social position
“between” the adult and the child, similar to a marginal member
of an underprivileged minority group.
c. There are still more specific factors involved in adolescence,
such as the new experiences with one’s own body, which can be rep¬
resented as the baffling change of a central region of the established
life space.
From this representation one can derive conceptually:
I. The adolescent’s shyness, sensitivity, and aggressiveness, owing
to unclearness and instability of ground (follows from a, b, and c).
II. A more or less permanent conflict between the various atti¬
tudes, values, ideologies, and styles of living (follows from b).
III. Emotional tension resulting from these conflicts (follows from
a, b, and c).
IV. Readiness to take extreme attitudes and actions and to shift
his position radically (follows from a, b, and c).
V. The "adolescent behavior” should appear only if the structure
and dynamics of the field are such as represented by a, b, and c. The
degree and particular type of behavior should depend upon the de¬
gree of realization of this structure and upon the strength of the
conflicting forces. Above all, the degree of difference and of separa¬
tion between adults and children which is characteristic for a particu¬
lar culture is important; also, the extent to which the particular
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 145
adolescent finds himself in the positibn of a marginal man. According
to field theory, actual behavior depends upon every part of the field.
It follows that the degree of instability of the adolescent should be
greatly infijuenced also by such factors as general stability or instability
of the particular individual.
Ill
Before I discuss the methodological aspect of our example, I wish
to illustrate by an additional example one particular point, namely,
the characterizations of events and objects by their interdependence
rather than by their similarity or dissimilarity of appearance. In the
example of adolescence, only such a procedure made possible the
linking of such divergent factors as group-belongingness, bodily
changes, and attitudes.
To my mind, it is hopeless to link the different problems involved
in social psychology in a proper manner by using classificatory con¬
cepts of the type of the Linnean system in botany. Instead, social
psychology will have to use a framework of “constructs.” These
constructs do not express “phenotypical” similarities, but so-called
“dynamic” properties—properties defined as “types of reactions” or
“types of influences.” In other words, these constructs represent
certain types of interdependence. The transition from phenotypical
concepts to dynamic (genetic, conditional-reactive) constructs based
on interdependence is, to my mind, one of the most important pre¬
requisites for any science which wishes to answer questions of
causation. Psychology is in the midst of a process of transition to
this type of concept. Social psychology, and sociology too, will have
to turn definitely in this direction. It is true that such a transition
can be made only if and when there is a sufficient amount of pheno¬
typical “facts” gathered and classificatory work has been done. This
state, however, seems now to have been reached both in
and in sociology.
psychology
As an example of the type and importance of this shift to con¬
structs based on interdependence, I might point to the definition of
"social group.”
The definition of the concept “group” has a somewhat chaotic
history. The term is interwoven with philosophical and metaphysical
considerations. One of the main points of discussion was whether or
146 Field Theory in Social Science
not the group has a group mind and is therefore an entity over and
above the individual. Besides this, the discussion was dominated
frequently by the emphasis upon the difference between Gemeinschajt
and Gesellschaff, whether one has to deal merely with matters of
formal organization or whether there exists something like a “natural
group unity,” based on such factors as empathy.
To the psychologist who has observed the historical development
of the concept of “whole,” or Gestalt, in psychology, most of the
argumentation about the group mind sounds strangely familiar. It
took psychology many steps before it discovered that a dynamic whole
has properties which are different from the properties of their parts
or from the sum of their parts. Even relatively recently (in the early
Gestalt psychology) the statement was frequently made that “the
whole is more than the sum of its parts.” Today such a formulation
can be considered hardly adequate. The whole is not “more” than the
sum of its parts, but it has different properties. The statement should
be: “The whole is different from the sum of its parts.” In other
words, there does not exist a superiority of value of the whole. Both
whole and parts are equally real. On the other hand, the whole h^
definite properties of its own. This statement has lost all its magic
halo and has become a simple fact of science, since it was discovered
that this holds also for physical parts and wholes. In addition, psy¬
chology today recognizes that there exist wholes of all degrees of
dynamic unity: there exist, on the one extreme, aggregates of inde¬
pendent objects; then wholes of small degrees of unity, of medium
degrees of unity, of a high degree of unity; finally, at the other ex¬
treme, wholes of such a high degree of unity that it is hardly adequate
to speak of parts.
Whatever has been of scientific value in the concept of group mind
resolves itself into the concrete and familiar problems of dynamic
wholes in sociology and social psychology.
Conceiving of a group as a dynamic whole should include a defini¬
tion of group which is based on interdependence of the members
(or better, of the subparts of the group). It seems to me rather im¬
portant to stress this point because many definitions of a group use
the similarity of group members rather than their dynamic interde¬
pendence as the constituent factor. Frequently, for instance, a group
is defined as composed of a number of persons who show certain
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 147
similarities, particularly a similarity of attitudes. I think one should
realize that such a definition is fundamentally different from a defini¬
tion of a group based on interdependence of its members. It is very
possible that a number of persons have a certain similarity—for in¬
stance, of sex, of race, of economic position, of attitudes—without
being a group in the sense of being interdependent parts of one social
whole. Women all over the world, or unskilled workers, or farmers,
may show a certain amount of similarity. It might even be possible
to pick out a group of Negroes in Louisiana, poor whites in Ken¬
tucky, and peasants in China with great economic similarity. It might
be proper to distinguish, in this respect, "types,” or "classes.”® How¬
ever, this does not imply that these numbers of persons are inter¬
dependent to any great extent. One of the developments in modern
times is for some of these economic classes to show an increasing
degree of interdependence, i.e., they show trends in the direction of
development to international groups.
A group, on the other hand, does not need to consist of members
which show great similarity. As a matter of fact, it holds for social
groups, as for wholes in any field, that a whole of a very high degree
of unity may contain very dissimilar parts. Doubtless, for instance, a
man, wife, and baby within one family may show much greater dis¬
similarity than each of the members of this group shows to other
individuals (babies, men, women) outside of this group. It is typical
of well-organized groups of high degree of unity to include a variety
of members who are different and have different functions within the
whole. Not similarity, but a certain interdependence of members
constitutes a group.
One should realize that even a definition of group membership
by equality of goal or equality of an enemy is still a definition by
similarity. The same holds for the definition of a group by the feeling
of loyalty or of belongingness of their members. However, such aS
equality, as well as the equality of goal or of enemy, constitutes some¬
times, also, a certain interdependence of the persons who show these
similarities. Therefore, if one wishes to use the feeling of belonging
^ the criterion of a group, one can do so if one points to the inter¬
dependence established by this feeling. However, one should realize
“'1"^ generally to designate both an interdependent
group and a number of persons who show similar properties.
148 Field Theory in Social Science
that loyalty or feeling of belongingness is only one of a variety of
possible types of interdependence which may constitute a group
(others are economic dependence, love, living together in a certain
area). The kind of interdependence of the members (what holds the
group together) is equally as important a characteristic of a group as
the degree of their interdependence and the group structure.
Stressing similarity or dissimilarity, rather than interdependence,
is typical of the descriptive "classificatory" epoch, which can be ob¬
served in a relatively early stage of development in practically every
science. It governs also, to a large degree, the everyday thinking
concerning groups. The discrepancy between what people "should
do, if they would be guided by their real interest,” and what they
actually do is frequently caused by the fact that a person feels himself
belonging to those to whom he is similar or to whom he wishes to
be similar. On the other hand, his "real interest” would demand that
he should feel belonging to those upon whom his dependence is
greatest. Thus, the behavior of persons belonging to underprivileged
groups can hardly be understood without realizing that the member¬
ship in such a group is determined by actual interdependence but that
many underprivileged persons feel themselves (and often are) more
similar to people outside that group.
In relation to the problem of group belongingness, as well as to
any other social problem, one must become sensitive to the difference
between concepts based on interdependence (including similarity of
interdependence) and those based on similarity without interde¬
pendence. I am persuaded that in the further development of sociology
and social psychology the former will more and more pervade and
Conclusions
This cursory examination of the problem of adolescence and the
definition of "social group” is meant to illustrate the following gen¬
eral points concerning the field-theoretical approach:
a. It is possible to link in a definite manner a variety of facts of
individual and social psychology which, from a classificatory point
of view, seem to have very little in common (such as the process of
learning and orientation, time perspective, planning, problems of
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 149
individual maturation, conflicts and tension, group belongingness
and the marginal man, and bodily changes).
b. This can be accomplished by the use of constructs which char¬
acterize objects and events in terms of interdependence rather than
of phenotypical similarity or dissimilarity. It may seem that empha¬
sizing interdependence will make the problem of classification even
more difficult because, generally, it is more difficult to describe a
fact in terms of its effect on others and its being affected by others
(its conditional-genetic properties) than in terms of its appearance
(phenotypical properties). However, as soon as one grasps the idea,
it becomes evident that if one characterizes an object or event by
the way it affects the situation, every type of fact is placed on the
same level and becomes interrelated to any other fact which affects
the situation. The problem of whether or not one is permitted to
combine concepts of values with those of bodily weight, for exam¬
ple, vanishes when confronted with the simple truth that both facts
influence the same situation.
The transition to constructs which express interdependence in¬
cludes:
c. The systematization of facts by "classification” should gradually
be replaced by an order based on "construction." "derivation.” and
"axiomatization” of laws.
d. It is possible to take into account "general” trends, as well as
more "specific" ones, in various degrees of specificity (for instance,
to link the general factor of locomotion from one region to another
to the more specific one of locomotion to an unknown region, or to a
locomotion from one social group to another, and finally to the state
of the marginal man "between” two groups). Instead of picking out
isolated facts, and later on trying to "synthesize” them, the total
situation is taken into account and is represented from the beginning.
The field-theoretical approach, therefore, means a method of "grad¬
ual approximation” by way of a stepwise increasing specificity. Pick¬
ing out isolated facts within a situation may lead easily to a picture
which is entirely distorted. A field-theoretical representation, on the
other hand, can and should be essentially correct at any degree of
perfection. *
Whether or not a certain type of behavior occurs depends not
on the presence or absence of one fact or of a number of facts as
150 Field Theory in Social Science
viewed in isolation but upon the constellation (structure and forces)
of the specific field as a whole. The “meaning’" of the single fact
depends upon its position in the field; or, to say the same in more
dynamic terms, the different parts of a field are mutually interde¬
pendent. This is of fundamental importance in social psychology.
It goes a good way in explaining, for example, the effect of rural and
urban surroundings and of nursery schools and orphanages on the
development of intelligence, or, more generally, the effect of the
state of the environment (its degree of differentiation, tension, etc.)
on the state of the person, because person and environment are both
parts of one dynamic field.
f. The properties of a field as a whole, such as its degree of dif¬
ferentiation, its fluidity, and its atmosphere, should be emphasized
sufficiently.
g. The representation of social-psychological facts by dynamic con¬
structs permits derivation of the conditions which influence behavior
in one direction or the other and of the conditions under which
“exceptions” should be expected. It covers the usual case as well as
the exceptional one.
h. It is true that all constructs in psychology and sociology should
be operational; i.e., it should be possible to coordinate to each of
them observable facts or procedures. However, it is equally impor¬
tant that the conceptual properties of the constructs, that is, their
logical-mathematical interrelations, be well determined. The latter
necessity, I think, has been relatively more neglected in psychology.
One of the most important among these conceptual problems is
finding a geometry which is able to represent the psychological or
social field adequately.
Psychology has to deal with a multitude of coexisting facts which
are interrelated and have a relative position to each other; in mathe¬
matical terms, it has to deal with a “space.” Mathematics knows a
variety of different types of spaces. It is an empirical question as to
what kind of geometry is best suited to represent the dynamic inter¬
dependence of that realm of facts which is treated in a particular
science. Since Einstein it has been known that Euclidean geometry,
which previously was the only geometry applied in physics, is not best
fitted for representing the empirical physical space. For psychology,
a recently developed nonquantitative geometry, called “topology,*"
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 151
can be used satisfactorily in dealing with problems of structure and
position in a psychological field.^ This space permits representation
of the position inside or outside of a certain region, the relation be¬
tween parts and whole, and a great number of structural character¬
istics. All of this is done in a mathematically exact way but does not
presuppose the quantitative determination of size, which is generally
not possible in a psychological field. The topological space is too
'’general'' for representing those dynamic psychological problems
which include the concept of direction, distance, or force. They can
be treated with a somewhat more specific geometry, which I have
called "hodological space.”® This space permits us to speak in a
mathematically precise manner of equality and differences of direc¬
tion, and of changes in distance, without presupposing the "measur¬
ing” of angles, directions, and distances, which is usually not pos¬
sible in a social-psychological field.
It is, I suppose, beyond question that sociology, too, deals with a
"multitude of coexistent interdependent facts"—in other words, with
the "empirical space.”® The sociologists and psychologists should
recognize what has been long known, that the empirical space is
nothing other than a multitude of facts existing at a given time and
showing certain types of interdependence. Indeed, sociology has for
a long time used a great number of spatial concepts (such as social
approach, change in direction of action, etc.). The popular prejudice
that the physical space is the only empirical space has made sociol¬
ogists regard their spatial concepts as merely an analogy. Better in¬
sight into the meaning of space in mathematics and physics should
readily lead to the understanding that the social field is actually an
empirical space, which is as "real” as a physical one.
Euclidean space generally is not suited for adequately representing
the structure of a social field—for instance, the relative position of
groups, or a social locomotion. For example, in a social field what
is meant by a straight line or an angle of 20° cannot be determined
Kurt Lewin: Principles of Topological Psychology (New York: McGraw-Hill
Book Co., 1956).
®Kuft Lewin: The conceptual representation and measurement of psycholocical
forces, Contr. Psychol. Theor.y 1938, i. No. 4.
•This does not mean that every sociological term which sounds geometrical is
really a geometrical concept. The term "social distance," for instance, is probably not
a geometrical concept.
152 Field Theory in Social Science
(at least not at present). However, the topological and the hodologi-
cal space are, as far as I can see, applicable within sociology proper
as well as in social psychology. For in sociology, as in psychology,
one is frequently able to determine relations of parts and whole and
changes in distance or direction without being able to determine
quantitative relations of size, distance, or angle. In addition, these
geometries seem to be particularly suitable for representing the
peculiar combination of ’‘cognitive” and “dynamic” factors, which is
characteristic of psychological and social fields, as well as a number
of other fundamental properties of the social-psychological dynamic.
The use of the same kind of geometry in psychology and sociology
would not imply that they are one and the same science. The question
of the "unity” of both sciences could remain open. However, the
task of social psychology would, of course, be greatly facilitated by
such a similarity of conceptual tools.
Independent of the solution of this problem, sociology, as well
as psychology, will have to decide what kind of geometry it is going
to apply in representing the spatial characteristics of its field. Before
this question is answered, neither sociology nor psychology can hope
to produce scientific derivations more solid than the "statistical rules
based on a coordination of facts treated more or less without regard
to their particular position in specific fields.
Both psychology and sociology contain "historical and ahis-
torical ("systematical”) problems closely interwoven. As opposed to
psychology, sociology has been fighting repeatedly against too great
an emphasis on the historical aspect of its problems almost from
the beginning. The transition to dynamic constructs makes it neces¬
sary to see this problem as clearly as possible. It cannot be the
task of sociology or psychology to eliminate the historical side of
their problems. On the contrary, a field-theoretical approach cannot
avoid taking into account the historical character of every fact and its
specific historical setting.
Nevertheless, it should be recognized that systematic problems of
interdependence are different from historical problems of origin.
The question concerning the "nature” and conditions of a social
process—in other words, concerning "cause and effect”—is a system¬
atic one both in psychology and sociology- The first and main task
of a field-theoretical approach can be characterized as the determma-
Field Theory and Experiment in Social Psychology 153
tion of "what situations are empirically possible and which situations
are not”; this is identical with the task of finding laws. For instance,
does a dictatorship necessarily suppress discussion? Does it need
scapegoats? W^hat forms of dictatorships or of democracies are pos¬
sible, and how do they affect group structure, the style of living, the
ideology, and individual behavior? Questions of such a systematic
type of causation will have to be answered experimentally before the
dynamic aspect of "historical” problems of origin can be treated
satisfactorily.
j. Finally, a point concerning fact-finding should be stressed which
is technical in nature but nevertheless important for a field-theoretical
approach. It applies to experimental as well as to other investigations.
It has already been emphasized that the validity of social-psycho¬
logical experiments should be judged not by the properties of isolated
events or single individuals within the field but mainly by whether
or not the properties of the social group or the social situation as a
whole are adequately represented. This implies that one of the fore¬
most tasks of fact-finding and observation in social psychology is to
supply reliable data about those properties of the field as a whole.
How should this be done? Suppose, for instance, that the life of
a group containing five members were to be observed during a
certain period. Let us assume that five observers are available. The
natural procedure might seem to be to assign one observer to each
member of the group, and in this way to gather all the necessary
data about the group life. Generally, however, such a procedure is
hardly the best one. What the observers will bring home will be
five miniature biographies ' of five individuals. It is true theoretically
that if these biographies were to be perfect in securing all individual
data, and if, in addition, the time indices for every action were
accurate up to the second, the total group life might be "recon¬
structed” on the basis of such material. In reality, of course, these
biographies will be neither complete nor sufficiently accurate as to
time. As a rule, therefore, it will not be possible to reconstruct even
such simple data about group life as: a continuous record of the size
and character of subgroups, their change, and their degree of unity.
Generally, this will be as impossible as to construct meaningfully the
behavior and the personality of an individual from separate accounts
of the history of his various muscles. Any observation necessarily
154 Field Theory in Social Science
means selection. The observer, confronted with the task of observing
an individual, naturally will select those facts which are important
for the individual even if they do not matter much for the group. He
simply will not ‘'see" facts important for the group as a whole (e.g.,
for its organization and atmosphere) if they do not immediately
reflect strongly in the individuars behavior.
At best, the data about group properties gathered in this fashion
on the basis of individual biographies are "indirectly reconstructed."
They cannot claim to have the strength of direct observations. How¬
ever, such direct observations about properties of the group as a
whole are possible. Frequently they can be carried through as easily
and as accurately as an observation on single individuals. In our
example, for instance, it is possible to assign one of the five observers
to direct observations of the subgrouping occurring in the group,
another one to recording the kind and character of interactions. I
am persuaded that, as a rule, for the study of social-psychological
problems such a procedure is bound to be more fruitful and more
reliable than the assignment of one observer to each individual of
the group.
Of course, given the social data, specific observation of individual
"biographies" may prove very valuable. I do not doubt, however,
that even for the understanding of the character and the behavior of
an individual the first type of observation will generally be more
significant than a record of the individual without the data about his
social background. Because the observation of the group will provide
more and better material for the characterization of the position and
the role of this individual within the group, they will determine,
therefore, the meaning of his action more accurately than what could
be achieved by observing him more or less as a separated entity.^®
It would be not at all surprising to me if such a sociological procedure
would become a key technique even for problems of individual
psychopathology.
'®The stressing of the field-theoretical approach in regard to the technique of
fact-finding in social psychology does not, of course, exclude the possibility that
under certain conditions the behavior of an individual can be treated as a symptom
for certain properties of the group.
vn
Problems of Research in Social Psychology
(1943-44)*
IJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJTJ^^
T he first task of science is to register objectively and describe
reliably the material one wishes to study. We have learned to
register fairly accurately the physical aspects of behavior. But in
regard to the social aspects of h^havior, the task of objective scientific
description seemed for a long time insoluble. Not many years ago,
a methodological study of this problem in one of our leading uni¬
versities came to the following pessimistic conclusion: Observing
the interrelation of a group of individuals, it was possible to collect
reliable data about such items as who moved his arm, turned his
head, or moved from one place to another. However, no reliable
data could be obtained about friendliness or unfriendliness or many
other social characteristics of behavior. The study seemed to lead to
the unfortunate conclusion that what can be observed reliably is
socially meaningless and what is socially meaningful cannot be
observed reliably.
Fortunately, during recent years a number of studies have shown
that, after all, the social aspect of interpersonal behavior can be
observed with high accuracy and with a degree of reliability which
satisfies fully the scientific requirements. It may be worthwhile to
examine how this methodological step forward has been accom¬
plished.
* Editor's note: The material in the first part of this chapter (up to the section.
Experimentation in "Real Life" Settings) is taken from Kurt Lev/in: Psychology
and the process of group living, J. Social Psychol., 1943, 17, 119—129. The re¬
mainder of the chapter comes from Kurt Lewin: Constructs in psychology and
psychological ecology, Univ. Iowa Stud. Child Welf., 1944, 20, 23—27.
*55
156
Field Theory in Social Science
Social Perception and Interpretation
One of the fundamental difficulties is related to the distinction
between "observation” and "interpretation.” In all sciences, it is
important to keep observation as free as possible from theories and
subjective interpretation. In psychology, too, the observer has to
learn to use his eyes and ears and to report what happened rather
than what he thinks should have happened according to his precon¬
ceived ideas. That is not an easy task. Can it be accomplished at all
in social psychology? Can a friendly or an aggressive act be observed
without interpretation in the same sense as the movement of an arm
can be observed?
Until recently the majority of psychologists were inclined to
answer with an emphatic "no” and even today they may give that
answer. Actually such an answer implies the impossibility of a
scientific social psychology. If we ask the same psychologist, not as
a "psychologist” but as an ordinary human being, how he gets along
with his wife, he will probably be eager to tell us that—with few
exceptions—he and his wife are well able to understand the social
meaning of each other’s behavior. If we were unable to perceive
adequately and objectively the majority of social interactions with
our colleagues and students, we would hardly be permitted to remain
on the campus for long. Child psychology has established beyond
doubt that within the first year of life social perception is well under
way. Within three or four years, the child can perceive rather com¬
plicated social actions. He is not likely to be tooled by the superficial
friendliness of a hostile or uninterested aunt. He is able to "see
through” such a surface. Frequently he seems to perceive more clearly
than an adult the character of certain social interrelations in his sur¬
roundings. This social perception has to be adequate in most of the
essential cases if the child is to survive socially. Therefore, objective
social observation must be possible and the psychologist should find
a way to do in science what any normal three-year-old child does in
life.
I think we would have sooner found our way if we had not been
blinded by philosophical considerations. For more than fifty years
psychology has grown up in an atmosphere which recognizes only
physical facts as "existent” in the scientific meaning of that term.
Problems of Research in Social Psychology 157
The effect of this atmosphere can be observed in every psychological
school, in the classical form of Gestalt theory as well as in behavior¬
ism. As usual, the conservative power of philosophy—this time in
the form of physicalistic positivism—did its part to keep alive an
attitude which once had a function for the progress of science, but
which now has outlived its usefulness.
What is needed in social psychology today is to free its method¬
ology from speculative limitations. We do well to start again with
the simple facts of everyday life for which the possibility of an
adequate social observation never could be in doubt because com¬
munity life is unthinkable without it. Such an empirical basis should
be one basis of the methodology of social psychology. The other
should be a progressively deeper understanding of the laws of "social
perception."
I would like to mention a few aspects of the problems of social
perception. How is it possible today to get reliable observations of
social action which could not be recorded reliably yesterday?
If a biologist is to observe the growth of a leaf during a fort¬
night, he will never finish his job if he tries to follow the movement
of the ions contained in that leaf; nor will he succeed if he watches
only the tree as a whole on which this leaf grows. The first pre¬
requisite of a successful observation in any science is a definite under¬
standing about what size of unit one is going to observe at a given
occasion.
This problem is of fundamental importance for social psychology.
For a long time we have misinterpreted the scientific requirements
of analysis and have tried to observe under all circumstances as
small units as possible. It is true that sometimes a twinkle of the
eye means the difference between acceptance or refusal of marriage.
But that meaning is the result of a defined and specific setting. An
observation which approaches the movement of the arm or head in
isolation is missing the social meaning of the events. In other words,
social observation should look toward units of sufficient size.
In addition, the observer should perceive the units in their par¬
ticular setting. This again is by no means a problem specific for
psychology. A physician who would cut up the X-ray picture of
the broken bone into small pieces and classify these pieces according
to their shades of gray would have destroyed all that he wanted to
158 Field Theory in Social Science
observe. To give another example, if two persons are running one
behind the other, it may mean that the first is leading and the second
following, or it may mean that the first is being chased by the second.
There is frequently no way to distinguish between these possibilities
if the observation lasts only a few seconds. One has to observe a
sufficiently extended period before the meaning of an act becomes
definitely clear. One does not need to be a Gestalt psychologist or
be interested in field theory to recognize these facts which are well
established in the psychology of perception. All that is necessary is
to acknowledge that the same laws which rule the perception of
physical entities also rule social perception.
Like the physician who has to read an X-ray picture, the social
psychologist has to be educated to know what he can report as an
observation and what he might add as a more or less valuable inter¬
pretation. A transition exists between observation and interpretation
in the case of the X-ray picture as well as in regard to social data.
But that does not weaken the importance of this distinction. Observers
have to be trained; then they are able to give reliable observations
where the untrained person has to resort to guesswork or interpreta¬
tion. This holds for the flyer who has to learn to recognize enemy
planes even under adverse conditions, for the physician studying the
X-ray picture, and also for the social psychologist.
All observation, finally, means classifying certain events under
certain categories. Scientific reliability depends upon correct per¬
ception and correct classification. Here again the observers have to
be trained and trained correctly.
There has to be agreement among observers as to what is to be
called a "question” and what a "suggestion,” where the boundary
lies between "suggestion” and a "command.” Exactly where the
boundary is drawn between two such categories is to a certain degree
a matter of convention. However, there are certain basic facts to be
learned that are not a matter of arbitrary conventions. If the teacher
says to the child in a harsh, commanding voice, "Would you close
the door?" this should not be classified under the category "question
but under the category "command.” The statement of one of our
native Nazis that the President's neck is well fitted for a rope is
definitely not to be classified under the category "statement of facts
nor under the category "expression of opinion,” in spite of its
Problems of Research in Social Psychology 159
grammatical form. In the attempt to be objective, the psychologist
too frequently has made the grammatical form of a sentence, or the
physical form of behavior rather than its social meaning, the criterion
for classification. We can no longer permit ourselves to be fooled
by such superficialities, and will have to recognize that the social
meaning of an act is no less objective than its grammatical meaning.
There are, of course, also in psychology boundary cases which are
difficult to classify; however, experience shows that the observer who
is well trained to look for the social meaning of the action is able
to perceive correctly and to classify reliably his data.
We should be aware that the problems of social perception have
very broad theoretical and practical implications. To name but a
few examples: The development of better methods for psychologically
correct classifications of social actions and expressions could be of
great value for the legal and political aspects of free speech. Recent
experiments have shown that the training of leaders is to a high
degree dependent upon the sensitizing of their social perception.
The good leader is able and ready to perceive more subtle changes
in social atmosphere and is more correct in observing social meaning.
The good scout master knows that a joking remark or a scuffle during
the ceremony of the raising of the flag is something different from
the same scuffle during a teaching period or during a period of games;
that it has a different meaning if the group is full of pep or all tired
out; if it occurs between intimate friends or between two individuals
who are enemies.
Social Units of Different Size
Observation of social behavior is usually of little value if it
doesn’t include an adequate description of the character of the social
atmosphere or the larger unit of activity within which the specific
social act occurs. A running account of such larger units of activity
should record whether the situation as a whole has the meaning of
discussing plans” or of "working,” of "playing around,” or of a
"free-for-all fight.” It has been shown that a reliable description
of the larger units of social events is possible and that the begin¬
ning and end of such periods can be determined with an astonishing
degree of accuracy. The statistical treatment of the data and their
i6o Field Theory in Social Science
evaluation must carefully take into account the position of a social
action within that unit to which it actually belongs. This is as im¬
portant theoretically as practically. For instance, on the average, the
democratic leader will give less direct commands and will more
frequently place the responsibility for decision on the members of
the group. This does not mean, however, that whenever a leader
gives a command he turns autocrat. In matters of routine, even an
extremely democratic group might gladly accept a leader or a parlia¬
mentary whip who has to see to it that certain objectives are reached
efficiently and with a minimum of bother for the members. The
democratic leader who may have to be careful to avoid commands
in his first contacts might be much freer in the form of his behavior
after the social character of the group and his position within it are
clearly established. The social meaning and the effect of a command
depend upon whether this command deals with an unessential ques¬
tion of ‘’execution” or an essential problem of “policy determina¬
tion”; whether it is an isolated event, which as Fritz Redl says is
“antiseptically” imbedded in the general social atmosphere, or
whether it is one of the normal elements of this social setting. It is
not the ainount of power which distinguishes the democratic and the
autocratic leader. The President of the United States always had more
political power than the Kaiser in Germany. What counts is how
this power is imbedded in the larger social unit and particularly
whether in the long run the leader is responsible to the people below
him. In Hitlerism, the leader on any level of the organizational
hierarchy had no responsibility whatever to the people below. The
leader above him was his only judge and his only source of power.
Of course, much is a question of degree. However, two points
should be clear; first, that a democratic leader is neither a man with¬
out power nor a traffic policeman nor an expert who does not affect
group goals and group decisions; second, that the evaluation of any
social atmosphere or organization has to take into account the full
spatial and temporal size of the social unit which is actually determin¬
ing the social events in that group.
It is clear that observation and theory in social psychology face
here a number of problems which we have barely started to attack.
In physics, we are accustomed to recognize that an ion has different
properties from the atom of which it is a part, that the larger mole-
Problems of Research in Social Psychology i6i
cule again has specific properties of its own, and that a macroscopic
object like a bridge, too, has its specific properties as a whole. A
symmetrical bridge might be composed of unsymmetrical molecules
and the stability of the bridge is not identical with the stability of
its molecules. These are simple facts beyond dispute. In social
psychology the same facts hold: the organization of a group is not
the same as the organization of the individuals of which it is com¬
posed. The strength of a group composed of very strong personalities
is not necessarily greater but frequently weaker than the strength
of a group containing a variety of personalities. The goal of the
group is not identical with the goal of its members. Frequently,
in a well-organized group, the goals of the members are different.
For instance, in a good marriage the husband should be concerned
with the happiness of the wife and the wife with happiness of the
husband rather than the husband and wife both being concerned
only with the happiness of the husband.
That a social unit of a certain size has properties of its own should
be accepted as a simple empirical fact. If we refuse to see anything
magical about it, we will be better prepared to perceive these units
correctly and to develop methods for their scientific description.
The greatest recent progress in methodology has been made in the
study of relatively small units: of the single social acts and of face-
to-face groups. Some of the characteristics of group structure, such
as the degree of subgrouping for work, can frequently be recorded
with rather simple means. Sometimes a filming or a recording of
the physical grouping of the members gives a fairly accurate picture.
Beyond that, methods have been developed which, I think, are able
to secure an adequate and reliable picture of the social atmosphere
and the social organizations of the group. The leaders and subleaders
within the group can be determined and their form of leadership can
be measured accurately in a rather short time in many face-to-face
groups. Such measurement makes it possible, for instance, to deter¬
mine typical forms of social management of the good leader and to
compare it with the typical forms of group management of the poor
leader in the same organization. Such measurement is obviously of
greatest importance for the training of good leaders. We should be
aware of the fact that good leadership in one organization is not
necessarily good leadership in another organization. Leadership
i62 Field Theory in Social Science
should be tailor-made for the specific organization. Even the symp¬
toms, for instance, for an autocratic leader are fairly different in
different types of activities. They are different in teaching, in danc¬
ing, or p>laying football. They are different in recreation, in the
factory, or in the army, although they all are parts of one democratic
culture.
In studying and evaluating problems of leadership or other social
actions, we should be careful to determine how much in that social
setting is imposed on the life of the group by the rules of the organi¬
zation or other social powers which limit the freedom of action by
the members of the group. There is not much chance of distinguish¬
ing the democratic from the autocratic scout master within the open¬
ing ceremony of flag raising. The way a foreman in a factory treats
his workers might be determined by a fight between union and man¬
agement to such a degree that no training of the foreman in social
management could affect the social relations between the foreman
and the worker to any considerable degree. In this case, a change in
the relation between management and union would be a prerequisite
to any essential change in the foreman’s behavior. Such an example
shows clearly that the size of the social unit which has to be taken
into account for the theoretical or practical solution of a social prob¬
lem is not an arbitrary matter which can be decided by the social
psychologist in one way or the other. What social unit is decisive
for a given social behavior is an objective question and a problem
which has to receive much consideration in any social study.
For instance, the interest which the church or the school that
sponsors a Boy Scout troop has in scouting and the status which
scouting has in the community might be more important for the
membership and the group life of a scout troop than the behavior
of the scout master. It is of prime importance in studying morale
in the army to know whether the loyalty of the soldier is primarily
directed toward his squad, his platoon, his regiment, or to the army
as a whole.
In studying the relatively small face-to-face groups we are, I
think, well on the way to measuring even such dynamic properties
as the degree of group tension, the degree of cohesiveness, and, of
course, its ideology. It is possible to conduct experiments, with a
group as a whole, which fulfill the requirements of standardized
Problems of Research in Social Psychology 163
settings to a degree not much different from what we are accustomed
to require of an experiment with individuals. It is possible, also, to
study empirically the question of to what degree group life, in a
given case, depends upon the specific personality of its individual
members.
Some properties of groups such as the degree of homogeneity of
its ideology can be measured on all sizes of groups. On the whole,
however, we are at present much less able to deal adequately with
the properties of the social units beyond the size of a face-to-face
group. One of the reasons seems to be that the time period which
has to be taken into consideration for one unit of events within this
larger social group is frequently of considerable extent. The action
within a smaller unit—particularly if one deals with children—
lies usually within the grasp of an observer who spends an hour
or two watching the group. This provides him with a sufficient
background to perceive the meaning of the social acts he wishes to
study. However, to determine the social meaning of a foreman's
conversation with a worker, a continuous observation of the fore¬
man alone, even for weeks, might not suffice. It might be necessary
for adequate observation of the foreman to attend a number of meet¬
ings of the workers, of certain committees which include manage¬
ment and workers, and some meetings of the management.
In studying such larger units, the interview of certain persons
is one of the most essential means of investigation. It is very im¬
portant to know in what position within the group one is likely to
find the best "informants.” The psychologist can learn much in
this respect from the cultural anthropologist. The questionnaire
which has been somewhat in disgrace in psychology may come back
in a slightly different form for the study of group life and particu¬
larly of the ideology of a group. We are gradually giving up the
idea that the answer to the questionnaires or interviews is an ex¬
pression of facts. We are slowly learning to treat them as reactions
to a situation which are partly determined by the question, partly by
the general situation of that individual. We have to learn to treat
questionnaires as we are accustomed to treat a projective technique.
In short, we need most urgently a real theory of questionnairing
and interviewing which offers more than a few technical rules.
One technical point seems to hold great practical promise for the
164 Field Theory in Social Science
future: If the views of the field-theoretical approach are correct, there
is a good prospect of approaching experimentally a great number of
problems which previously seemed out of reach. If the pattern of the
total field is generally more important than, for instance, size, it
becomes possible to study fundamental social constellations experi¬
mentally by "transposing” them into an appropriate group-size.
(Gestalt psychology understands by "transposition” a change which
leaves the essential structural characteristics unaltered.) If the experi¬
menter is able to create such a transposition, he does not need to be
afraid of creating "artificial,” "unlifelike” situations. Experiments
become artificial if merely one or another factor is realized, but not
the essential pattern. In view of these considerations we should be
able to investigate the properties of large groups on relatively small-
scale models. We do not need, for instance, to study whole nations to
find out to what degree our perception of the ideals of other persons
depends on our own culture. We can study the same phenomenon in
the eight- and eleven-year-old child who perceives the degree of
egoism, generosity, of fairness of his surroundings according to his
own degree of egoism, generosity, or fairness.
To mention another example: The morale of a group of any size
seems to be stronger if its action is based on its own decision and on
"accepting” its own situation. For instance, the ability of an individual
to "take it" in a shock situation is much greater in persons who create
this situation themselves than in persons who are pushed into the
situation from without. A comparison of a lecture method with a
method of group decision for changes of food habits in housewives
shows that the method of group decision is much more effective.
The success of the fight for equality of an underprivileged group
seems to depend greatly on finding leaders who have fully accepted,
for better or for worse, their own belonging to this minority or who
have joined spontaneously the underprivileged group, as it happened
in the French Revolution.
Experimentation in "Real Life” Settings
Although it appears to be possible to study certain problems of
society in experimentally created, smaller, laboratory groups, we shall
have also to develop research techniques that will permit us to do real
Problems of Research in Social Psychology 165
experiments within existing '‘natural” social groups. In my opinion,
the practical and theoretical importance of these types of experiments
is of the first magnitude. That the basic questions of sociology cannot
be answered without experimenting in the strict sense of the term
with groups has become clear even to persons who still believe that
it will never be possible to carry out such experiments. Such experi¬
ments will be important for studying ideologies and changes of cul¬
ture. They may become one of the foremost techniques for studying
normal and abnormal personality and for bringing about personality
changes. In other words, the group experiment lies on the inter¬
section of experimental psychology, experimental sociology, and
experimental cultural anthropology.
It is clear that experimentation within “life situations” offers par¬
ticular difficulties, such as in setting up comparable control groups
and keeping conditions constant during longer periods. The power
and endowment of research institutions have not reached a level
which would permit creating large factories or a nation-wide organ¬
ization for the purpose of science. It may, therefore, be appropriate
to mention certain methodological problems which usually would be
classified as problems of "applied psychology.”
I. CONSTANCY AND SELF-REGULATION IN GROUP BEHAVIOR
The experimenter who is accustomed in his studies of fatigue to
keep the flow of material, the amount of interruptions and dis¬
turbances constant might well feel that it is hopeless to try exact
experimentation in a setting such as a factory where any number of
irregularities occur in the flow of material, where workers come and
leave, where foreman and fellow workers change their moods and so
on. Nevertheless, that a factory may for months show only minor
variations in production points to a theoretically important problem.
One could try to explain this steadiness of output as a result of the
fact that the large social units are influenced by a multitude of strong
factors and that, therefore, even relatively strong "chance variations”
would be expected not to alter significantly the factory production. It
seems, however, that such explanation is by no means sufficient.
Many experimental investigations of groups would hardly be pos¬
sible without certain "self-regulating" processes within the group.
Self-regulating processes are well known in the individual. The body,
i66 Field Theory in Social Science
for instance, is kept at a relatively constant level by certain regulatory
processes. A worker who does not feel well might compensate by a
temporarily greater effort. Similarly, self-regulating processes in
regard to groups as a whole seem to be characteristic of those social
conglomerations which are "natural groups." For instance, if a
worker is temporarily absent other workers of his team might pinch-
hit for him. In other words, the constellation of forces which keeps
the group life on a certain quasi-stationary level (see Chapter 9) may
maintain this level in spite of disturbances. In such cases, it might
well be possible to measure relatively small changes of the forces
which determine this quasi-stationary equilibrium even in situations
where the irregular disturbances are relatively large. Of course, self¬
regulation within a group as well as within an individual occurs only
to a certain degree and within certain limits.
On the whole then, it seems possible to consider many groups as
"natural dynamic units” or wholes which show the typical properties
of these units as wholes. In this respect experimentation on a group
level is not very different from experiments on the individual level
as long as a transposition is made from smaller to larger units in
regard to time as well as space. Certain social aspects of experimenta¬
tion with life groups are, however, rather different from ordinary
experimentation in the laboratory.
2. THE experimenter's POWER TO CONTROL
Experimentation in the laboratory occurs, socially speakirig, on an
island quite isolated from the life of society. Although it cannot
violate society’s basic rules, it is largely free from those pressures
which experimentation with "life groups" has to face daily. In a
laboratory experiment in perception or frustration the psychologist
is usually in control of the situation. In other words he has the
power to create the physical conditions he wants. Socially, his power
is limited merely by the fact that he does not wish to harm the
subject or does not get sufficient cooperation from him. By and large,
then, the question of the power of the experimenter is well taken
care of in individual psychology.
For experimentation with life groups, however, the power aspert
is a major problem. Any organization in which the experiment might
proceed has definite, practical purposes. Interference with the objec-
Problems of Research in Social Psychology 167
tives of the organization cannot be permitted. On the other hand, to
carry through an experiment, the experimenter must somehow have
sufficient power to set up the necessary constellations and variations.
As a rule, the only way to acquire such power is to gain the active
cooperation of the organization. There would be little chance to
gain such power if it were not for the fact that many experimental
studies if properly conducted have immediate or long-range practical
implications. The organizational form of the existing factories,
unions, political parties, community centers, associations—in short,
of most groups—is based on tradition, on ideas of “a born or¬
ganizer,” on the nonsurvival of the unfit, or at best, on primitive
methods of trial and error. Of course, much practical experience has
been gathered and systematized to a degree. We know from other
fields, however, that the efficiency of this procedure is far below what
can be achieved with systematic scientific experimentation.
It would not be surprising, therefore, if scientific studies on group
life would soon be considered as essential for the progress of any large
organization as today chemical research is considered essential for
the chemical factory.
3. EXPERIMENTATION AND EDUCATION
Even if the person at the helm of the organization is persuaded
that certain experiments would be of potential practical value, he will
still not be ready to give the experimenter unlimited freedom of
action. He might be ready, however, to cooperate with the experi¬
menter to the degree of setting up jointly an experimental procedure.
This presupposes that everyone involved in the execution of the
project must to some measure become familiar with scientific aspects
of the problem.
A considerable amount of education is, therefore, a frequent pre¬
requisite to research in an organization. In the beginning, each section
of the organization usually shows some suspicion as a result of its
particular type of insecurity; each section is afraid that its power or
influence may be affected or that some unpleasant data be uncovered
by the research. If the experimenter proceeds correctly, this suspicion
usually diminishes the more everyone understands the nature of the
problems and gets a first-hand experience of such research. Frequently,
such an education can be used as an important part of a planned
i68 Field Theory in Social Science
reorganization of the group. The very attempt to face each other’s
problems objectively changes attitudes to some degree. The active
cooperation in fact finding opens up new horizons, creates better
understanding, and often results in higher morale.
4. THEORETICAL AND APPLIED SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY
The scientist cannot be blind to the fact that the more important
the group problems which he intends to study, the more likely it is
that he will face not merely technical social problems. He should be
clear about his objective. This objective is fact finding in regard to
what is and what would be if certain measures were adopted. Without
additional premises, the scientist cannot decide whether a manager
"should” prefer high production coupled with a factory atmosphere
of relatively small status differences or whether he "should” prefer
great status differences even if that means less production. He cannot
decide what the ideal of the Scout movement "should” be. In other
words, the experimenter as such is not the policy determiner of the
organization. However, he can investigate what ought to be done if
certain social objectives are to be reached. He can secure data which
will be important for analyzing a given policy and its effect, and
which will be pertinent for any rational policy determination.
In a particular way then are the methodological problems in this
field of experimental social psychology interlocked with so called
"applied” problems. Even experiments which are designed to solve
theoretical problems presuppose close cooperation between the re¬
search worker and the practitioner, a sufficient power of the experi¬
menter, and the recognition that any such research on groups is, to a
degree, social action.
The relation between scientific psychology and life shows a peculiar
ambivalence. In its first steps as an experimental science, psychology
was dominated by the desire of exactness and a feeling of insecurity.
Experimentation was devoted mainly to problems of sensory percep¬
tion and memory, partly because they could be investigated through
setups where the experimental control and precision could be secured
with the accepted tools of the physical laboratory. As the experimental
procedure expanded to other sections of psychology and as psycho¬
logical problems were accepted by the fellow scientist as proper
objects for experimentation, the period of "brass instrument psy-
Problems of Research in Social Psychology 169
chology” slowly faded. Gradually experimental psychology became
more psychological and came closer to life problems, particularly in
the field of motivation and child psychology.
At the same time a countercurrent was observable. The term
“applied psychology“ became—correctly or incorrectly—identified
with a procedure that was scientifically blind even if it happened to
be of practical value. As the result, “scientific” psychology that was
interested in theory tried increasingly to stay away from a too close
relation to life.
It would be most unfortunate if the trend toward theoretical
psychology were weakened by the necessity of dealing with natural
groups when studying certain problems of social psychology. One
should not be blind, however, to the fact that this development offers
great opportunities as well as threats to theoretical psychology. The
greatest handicap of applied psychology has been the fact that, with¬
out proper theoretical help, it had to follow the costly, inefficient, and
limited method of trial and error. Many psychologists working today
in an applied field are keenly aware of the need for close cooperation
between theoretical and applied psychology. This can be accomplished
in psychology, as it has been accomplished in physics, if the theorist
does not look toward applied problems with highbrow aversion or
with a fear of social problems, and if the applied psychologist realizes
that there is nothing so practical as a good theory.
In the field of group dynamics, more than in any other psycholog¬
ical field, are theory and practice linked methodologically in a way
which, if properly handled, could provide answers to theoretical
problems and at the same time strengthen that rational approach to
our practical social problems which is one of the basic requirements
for their solution.
VIII
Psychological Ecology
(1943)
IJTJTJTJTJTJTTLrLnJTJTJ^^
T he relation between psychological and nonpsychological factors
is a basic conceptual and methodological problem in all branches
of psychology, from the psychology of perception to the psychology
of groups. A proper understanding of this relationship must be
achieved before we can answer the many questions raised in efforts
to produce an integration of the social sciences. A field-theoretical
approach to these problems of "psychological ecology suggests some
of the ways in which these questions may be answered.
The following discussion of food habits may suffice as an example
of a first step in analyzing a field for the purpose of changing cultural
habits. This analysis has the purpose of clarifying exactly where and
how psychological and nonpsychological problems overlap. Any type
of group life occurs in a setting of certain limitations to what is and
what is not possible, what might or might not happen. The non¬
psychological factors of climate, of communication, of the law of the
country or the organization are a frequent part of these outside
limitations." The first* analysis of the field is done from the point of
view of "psychological ecology”: the psychologist studies "nonpsy¬
chological” data to find out what these data mean for determining
the boundary conditions of the life of the individual or group. Only
after these data are known can the psychological study itself be begun
to investigate the factors which determine the actions of the group
or individual in those situations which have been shown to be
significant.
170
Psychological Ecology 171
For planning to adapt the food habits of a group to the require¬
ments of health or of changing social conditions, one obviously
should know the status quo. But what should one consider in studying
this status quo} In particular, how should the psychologist proceed to
make a contribution toward planned changes?
The Social Trends Approach
By studying what people have eaten during, let us say, the last
decade one may hope to find certain "trends.” By distinguishing
more rigid and more flexible trends one then might hope to find
indications as to which changes might be expected to encounter much
and which little resistance.
Numerous attempts have been made to forecast the future on the
basis of "social trends"; we know now that their value for prediction
is very limited. Not infrequently, they are misleading.
There are several reasons why technical advice for bringing
about changes cannot, as a rule, be based on the study of historical
trends:
1. Even if the sampling method is perfect for securing both reliable
and valid data, the prediction for the future is a probability statement
which presupposes that the situation will remain stationary, or that
it will change at a known rate in a known direction. The crux of the
matter is that conditions frequently do change radically from one day
to another.
2. There is no definite way to judge from historical trends the
degree of difficulty for bringing about a change in a certain direction.
A long duration of a group habit does not necessarily mean that this
habit is rigid. It may mean merely that the related conditions happen
not to have changed during that period. It may well be that food
habits which remained rigidly upheld for a long time can be changed
more easily than habits which in the past have shown a fair amount
of flexibility.
3. No amount of descriptive data will settle the question of what
techniques are efficient in bringing about desired changes. For
instance, no amount of data about what people eat or have eaten can
172 Field Theory in Social Science
tell whether advertisement, or lecture, or school education will be
most effective.
The Child Development Approach
One may hope to find better means of forecast by studying the
individual history. Cultural anthropology has emphasized recently
that any constancy of culture is based on the fact that children are
growing into that culture. They are indoctrinated and habituated in
childhood in a way which keeps their habits strong enough for the
rest of their lives.
This shift of approach from the history of the group to the history
of the person might be viewed as a change from sociology to psychol¬
ogy. At the same time, it is a step toward linking the degree of
resistance to change with the present state of the group members,
rather than with the past conduct of the group. It is a step away from
an historical and toward an ahistorical dynamic approach.
To my mind, the child development approach in present cultural
anthropology is fruitful and desirable. It is very important to know
what the likes and dislikes of the children at the different age levels,
are, what the values behind their food ideology are, and what or
whom they conceive as sources of approval and disapproval. Still, one
should be clear that the historical and the descriptive approach cannot
answer the question of how to change food habits of groups in the
desired direction.
The Field Approach: Culture and Group Life
AS Quasi-Stationary Processes
This question of planned change or of any "social engineering”
is identical with the question: What “conditions” have to be
changed to bring about a given result and how can one change these
conditions with the means at hand?
One should view the present situation—the status quo —as being
maintained by certain conditions or forces. A culture—for instance,
the food habits of a given group at a given time—is not a static affair
but a live process like a river which moves but still keeps a recogniz-
Psychological Ecology 173
able form. In other words, we have to deal, in group life as in indi¬
vidual life, with what is known in physics as ”quasi-stationary”
processes.^
Food habits do not occur in empty space. They are part and parcel
of the daily rhythm of being awake and asleep; of being alone and
in a group; of earning a living and playing; of being a member of a
town, a family, a social class, a religious group, a nation; of living
in a hot or a cool climate; in a rural area or a city, in a district with
good groceries and restaurants or in an area of poor and irregular
food supply. Somehow all of these factors affect food habits at any
given time. They determine the food habits of a group every day
anew just as the amount of water supply and the nature of the river
bed determine from day to day the flow of the river, its constancy, or
its change.*
Food habits of a group, as well as such phenomena as the speed
of production in a factory, are the result of a multitude of forces.
Some forces support each other, some oppose each other. Some are
driving forces, others restraining forces. Like the velocity of a river,
the actual conduct of a group depends upon the level (for instance,
the speed of production) at which these conflicting forces reach a
state of equilibrium. To speak of a certain culture pattern—for
instance, the food habits of a group—implies that the constellation
of these forces remains the same for a period or at least that they find
their state of equilibrium at a constant level during that period.
Neither group "habits” nor individual "habits” can be understood
sufficiently by a theory which limits its consideration to the processes
themselves and conceives of the "habit” as a kind of frozen linkage,
an "association” between these processes. Instead, habits will have to
be conceived of as a result of forces in the organism and its life space,
in the group and its setting. The structure of the organism, of the
group, of the setting, or whatever name the field might have in the
given case, has to be represented and the forces in the various parts
of the field have to be analyzed if the processes (which might be
either constant "habits” or changes) are to be understood scien-
' For the general characteristics of quasi-stationary processes see Wolfgang
Koehler: Dynamics in Psychology (New York: Liveright Publishing Co., 1940).
The type of forces, of course, is different; there is nothing equivalent to "cogni¬
tive structure” or "psychological past” or "psychological future” in the field de¬
termining the river.
174 Field Theory in Social Science
tifically. The process is but the epiphenomenon, the real object of
study is the constellation of forces.
Therefore, to predict which changes in conditions will have what
result we have to conceive of the life of the group as the result of
specific constellations of forces within a larger setting. In other
words, scientific predictions or advice for methods of change should
be based on an analysis of the “field as a whole,” including both its
psychological and nonpsychological aspects.
An Illustrative Study
The study used here as an illustration of these general principles
was conducted by a field staff at the Child Welfare Research Station
of the State University of Iowa. Its primary objective was to investi¬
gate some of the aspects of why people eat what they eat. The method
consisted of interviewing housewives. Five groups were studied;
three representing economic subdivision (high, medium, and low
income levels) of White American stock, and two subcultural groups,
Czech and Negro.®
A. CHANNEL THEORY
The question “why people eat what they eat,” is rather complex,
involving both cultural and psychological aspects (such as traditional
foods and individual preferences caused by childhood experiences),
as well as problems of transportation, availability of food in a par¬
ticular area, and economic considerations. Therefore the first step in a
scientific analysis is the treatment of the problem of where and how
the psychological and the nonpsychological aspects intersect. This
question can be answered, at least in part, by a “channel theory.”
Of paramount importance in this theory is the fact that once food
is on the table, most of it is eaten by someone in the family. There-
* After a period of preliminary trials of various methods, the final data were col*
lectc-d during May and June, 1942. It should be kept in mind that the results descn e
the attitudes and habits of the people at that time (only sugar was rationed). IHie
material was collected from the residents of a midwestern town with a population
of about 60,000. Although surrounded by farming country, the town has a variety
of industrial plants. It has employed a nutritionist for a number of years and has a
good nutrition program. . , , j 1. l-» -4
For a full discussion of this study see Kurt Lewin: Forces behind food hab^ an
methods of change. Bulletin of the National Research Council, i 943 . 35-o5-
Psychological Ecology
175
BUYING CHANNEL GARDENING CHANNEL
fore one would find the main answer to the question “why people eat
what they eat,” if one could answer the question, “how food comes
to the table and why.”
Food comes to the table through various channels (Figure 19).
One is buying in a store. After the food has been bought, it may be
stored in a locker to be taken out later, then to be cooked and brought
to the table. Another channel is gardening. There are additional
channels such as deliveries, buying food in the country, baking at
home, and canning.
Food moves step by step through a channel. The number of steps
176 Field Theory in Social Science
vary for difierent channels and for different foods within the same
channel. The time food can remain in one position varies. Food in the
locker or food after canning may remain for considerable time in the
same position. On the other hand, food may stay just a few hours or
days in the pantry or in the icebox.
To find out what food comes to the table, we have to know how
many food channels exist for the particular family or group. To
understand the changes after certain channels are blocked, we have
to know what new channels open up or in which old channels traffic
is increased. For instance, when preparing meals at home becomes
difficult, eating in restaurants may increase.
Food does not move by its own impetus. Entering or not entering
a channel and moving from one section of a channel to another is
effected by a "gatekeeper.” For instance, in determining the food
that enters the channel "buying” we should know whether the hus¬
band, the wife, or the maid does the buying. If it is the housewife,
then the psychology of the housewife should be studied, especially her
attitudes and behavior in the buying situation.
It is very important to realize that the psychological forces which
influence the movement of the food may be different for the different
channels and for the various sections within the same channel. Each
channel offers a certain amount of resistance to movement, and certain
forces tend to prevent entrance into the channel. For example, if food
is expensive, two forces of opposite direction act on the housewife.
She is in a conflict. The force away from spending too much money
keeps the food from going into that channel. A second force cor¬
responding to the attractiveness of the food tends to bring it into the
channel.
Let us assume that the housewife decides to buy an expensive
piece of meat: the food passes the gate. Now the housewife will be
very eager not to waste it. The forces formerly opposing each other
will now both point in the same direction: the high price that tended
to keep the expensive food out is now the reason why the housewife
makes sure that through all the difficulties the meat gets safely to the
table and is eaten.
I. The Use of Various Channels. In our study of a midwestern com¬
munity we found that in the five groups investigated each of the
Psychological Ecology 177
foods, except desserts, was obtained through the buying channel
considerably more frequently than through any other channel.
For all groups together, it was found that about a third of the
vegetables and fruits were canned at home. There seemed to be no
relation between income levels and the percentage of families who
can, although it was found that the amount of food canned was
greater in the two lower income groups. A pronounced cultural differ¬
ence was discovered in that all of the Czech families did some canning,
and the amount of food they canned was greater than in comparable
income groups in other segments of the community.
In general, the data permitted the following conclusions: To some
extent financial circumstances and cultural values do influence the
extent to which various food channels are used and the uses to which
they are put. Thus, the lower income groups are able to effect savings
by canning more of the essential foods they eat and by having more
food gardens. The higher income groups are able to maintain lockers
and have milk deliveries. Moreover, the lower income groups can
essential foods whereas the higher income groups, by canning such
foods as jams and jellies, do so for taste and possibly status. The
Czech group, resourceful and strongly motivated toward self-suffi¬
ciency, does the most canning and gardening.
2. W^ho Controls the Channel? It is important to know what
members of the family control the various channels, as any changes
will have to be effected through those persons. In all our groups the
wife definitely controls all the channels except that of gardening
where the husband takes an active part. Even there, however, the
husband seldom controls this channel alone. Children are never
mentioned as controlling any of the channels, although they un¬
doubtedly influence the decisions indirectly through their rejection of
food put before them.
B. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE GATEKEEPER
To understand and influence food habits we have to know in addi¬
tion to the objective food channels and objective availability, the
psychological factors influencing the person who controls the channels.
The psychology of the gatekeeper includes a great variety of factors
which we do not intend to cover fully. The factors might be classified
under two headings, one pertaining to the cognitive structure, i.e.,
lyS Field Theory in Social Science
the terms in which people think and speak about food; and the other
pertaining to their motivation, e.g., the system of values behind their
choice of food.
I. The^Cognitive Structure. The cognitive structure deals with
what is considered '‘food,’* “food for us,” or “food for other mem¬
bers of the family,” with meal patterns, and with the significance of
the eating situation.
a. Food Outside and Within Consideration. Physical availability
is not the only factor which determines availability of food to the
individual. One of the determining factors is “cultural availability.”
There are many edible materials which people never even consider
for use because they do not think of them as food for themselves.
If we consider as food all that which some human beings actually
eat and like to eat, then live grasshoppers would have to be included
in the category of food. If, however, we ask what people in the
United States consider as food, live grasshoppers would be excluded.
In other words, the psychological area of food in our culture is only
a small part of the objectively edible food, and could be conceived
of as a small restricted region within the total region of all objec¬
tively edible food.
In some parts of our country peanuts or cheese are considered food
for animals but not for human beings. A farm girl in Iowa refused
to eat cottage cheese because it is something for the pigs. Even within
the area of food in our culture, the boundary between food for
human beings and food for animals varies.
Even the food that is recognized as that for human beings still may
not be accepted as food for one’s own family. For example, kidneys
or certain viscera are considered by some as food only for poor people,
or champagne a drink for the rich. In other words, only a certain
part of the area recognized as "food for human beings” is recognized
as “food for us.” To find out what is considered “food for us" by
different groups is one of the first objectives of studying food habits.
b. Food foJT Husbands and Children. Within the area of "food
for us” one might distinguish “food for the husband” and “food
for children” as special subareas. The fact that the housewife controls
the channels does not mean that she is uninfluenced by the preferences
of the husband, or what she thinks is good for him and the children.
The indirect influence of other members of the family was demon-
Psychological Ecology 179
strated in our study in a variety of ways. The most typical husband’s
food was found to be meat. Meat ranked first as a husband's food
for all the subgroups except the Negro group where it ranked third,
with vegetables and desserts preceding it. On the other hand, the most
typical children’s food was vegetables, mentioned by one-third of the
families having children. Vegetables ranked first as a children’s
food for all the groups except the Negro group where it ranked
second with desserts first. Potatoes were served more frequently as a
special dish for the husband than for the children.
This indirect control by other members of the family is but one
of the many aspects of the psychology of the gatekeeper.
c. "Meal Patterns." Other aspects of the cognitive structure of food
are the difference between breakfast food, food for lunch, and for
dinner; the distinction between main dish and dessert; the concept
of balanced meal and of "leftover.”
Cereal, caffeins (coffee, tea), eggs, and bread or toast were found
to be the most generally accepted breakfast foods by all the groups
studied. Fruits were mentioned by three-fourths of the high and
middle income groups, but by only one-fourth of the Czech, Negro,
and low income groups.
As lunch foods, fruits and milk were mentioned more frequently
by the high income group, and soups more often by the low income
group. Salads, sandwiches, and fruits were much more characteristic
of the high and middle income groups than of the others. Leftovers
were used for lunch by all groups but more frequently by the Czech
group. Lunch is apparently a "pick-up" meal more than either of
the other meals. Whereas approximately 75 per cent of the high and
middle income groups claimed to plan their lunches, only about 25
per cent of the other groups did. The others said they ate whatever
happened to be in the house.
Meat, vegetables, potatoes, and dessert were commonly accepted
by all groups as foods for dinner. Salads were mentioned much more
frequently by the two upper income groups while bread was listed
less often and butter not at all. The lower income groups named
butter and bread much more frequently. It is likely that bread and
butter were considered a real part of the dinner in these groups, and
only accessories by the higher income groups.
d. The Meaning of the Eating Situation. One important point is
iSo Field Theory in Social Science
the feeling of group belongingness created by eating in the company
of others. At a banquet, eating means something very different from
eating after a long period of starvation, and may be classified as a
social function rather than as a means of survival. On the whole,
eating is usually a more complicated function than just taking nour¬
ishment.
The psychological meaning of eating is closely related to group
situations. Bating with fellow workers in a factory is something
different from eating at the family table or eating in a restaurant.
The “eating group" influences greatly the eating conduct and the
eating ideology of the individual. One can say that every eating group
has a specific eating culture.
2. Motivation. We will discuss the various factors in motivation
under three major headings: (a) values (motives, ideologies) behind
food selection, (b) food needs, and (c) obstacles to be overcome.
a. Values Behind Food Selection. There is more than one value
which acts as a frame of reference for the individual choosing foods.
These values have not always the same weight for the individual; they
may change, as during wartime, and in addition may be different in
the restaurant and at home.
At least four frames of reference may be used in evaluating foods
—expense, health, taste, and status. It is important to know the rela¬
tive strengths of these different frames of reference for various groups
of people and also how they vary for different foods.
In regard to the system of values, three questions may be asked:
(i) What are the values for this group? (2) What is the relative
weight of each value? (3) How are specific foods linked with certain
values?
In our investigation significant differences were found in the
frequency with which various frames of reference were mentioned
both between the groups and within each group. Within the groups
the following differences were observed. In the high income group,
health is the predominant value, with money and taste at a lower,
approximately equal level. In the middle group money is the pre¬
dominant frame, with health considerably lower, and taste a great
deal lower. This is also true of the low income and Negro groups
except that the differential between money and health is even greater,
money being by far the most important consideration. The Czech
Psychological Ecology i 8 i
group falls between the high and middle groups, in that their men¬
tion of money and health are approximately equal, with taste a great
deal lower.
In order to know which food will be chosen one has to know, in
addition to the general value system and the relative weight of each
frame of reference, exactly where each of the foods in question
stands on each of the value scales.
Fowl was found almost never to be mentioned as a dish to have
when short of money, or as a most healthful, or most filling food,
but it was frequently mentioned as a dish to have for a company
dinner.
The position of the various foods on a taste scale was investigated
by asking each housewife, “What dishes are your family especially
fond of?” Meats, desserts, and vegetables were the most frequent
favorites in all groups. For the Czechs, however, bread was named
significantly more often than desserts. That this category, bread, was
so high is probably due to the large consumption of kolatches, a
Czech dish made of dough similar to bread and stuffed with meat or
fruit.
Meat tended to be less mentioned as a favorite dish with decreasing
income level. Vegetable dishes showed the opposite trend and were
mentioned significantly more often by the low income and Negro
groups than by the high income group. This finding may be inter¬
preted as supporting the hypothesis that people like what they eat
rather than eat what they like. Our data do not give support to the
widely prevalent idea that favorites are generally those foods which
are difficult to obtain.
Each housewife was also asked, “What foods do you think are
essential to a daily diet?” Vegetables and milk were the most fre¬
quently mentioned essential foods in all groups. Bread was considered
essential by significantly more families from the low income group,
the Czechs, and the Negroes than from the high income group.
Fruits were regarded as essential much more frequently in the high
income groups than in the others. Similar differences were found
with respect to eggs.
b. Food Needs. It is important to recognize that the relative weight
of the various frames of reference changes from day to day in line
with the changing needs. These needs might change because of satia-
182 Field Theory in Social Science
tion, of variation in the situation, or because of cultural forces toward
diet variations.
It is in line with the basic phenomena of all needs that continued
consumption of the same type of food leads to a decrease in the
attractiveness of that particular food. This is a powerful determinant
of daily and seasonal cycles in food choice. It affects different foods
in different degrees; for instance, it is smaller for bread than for meat.
The general level of food satisfaction, too, affects the attractive¬
ness of food and changes the relative weight of the various value
scales. If less food is within reach of a person the relative weight of
the taste scale tends to diminish in favor of the "essential” aspects
of food. If the food basket is pretty well filled the housewife can
afford to be more discriminating in her choices than when it is
empty.
The situational factors are fairly obvious; VC^hen the housewife is
short of money at the end of the month or when she is preparing a
meal for guests, the corresponding frames of reference will increase
in weight.
The continued advocation of a "rich and varied diet” during the
last decade has strengthened cultural forces toward day-to-day varia¬
tions* in foods.
c. Obstacles to be Overcome. The interview did not approach the
problem of obstacles along the various channels in a specific way,
although these problems must be taken into account in planning
changes of food habits. Canned foods, for instance, are frequently
preferred because of the little time necessary for preparation. The
extent to which such obstacles as difficulty in transportation, lack of
domestic help, time necessary for preparing and cooking influence
the choice of the gatekeeper depends on his particular circumstances.
3. Conflict.
a. Buying as a Decision Situation. We have discussed a number
of forces which act toward or away from choosing a given food.
Their simultaneous presence in the actual choice situation creates
conflict.
In general a conflict situation arises when there is, on the one
hand, a drive to engage in a certain activity (as buying food) and
on the other hand, a force opposing that activity. An increase in
prices, acting as a resistance to buying the foods which people have
Psychological Ecology 183
grown accustomed to enhances the conflict in the food area for all
groups. Families of low income are likely to experience more conflict
in buying food than those of high income since their freedom in
buying the foods they want is restricted by their limited finances.
Members from the middle income group, however, may experience
greater conflict than those from the low income group in so far as
they are psychologically a marginal group. They strive to achieve the
social status of the financially more able and at the same time fear
dropping back to the level of poor people.
Tlie degree to which a proposed change of food habits happens
to touch a food area of high or low conflict is one of the factors
determining the degree of emotionality with which people will react.
At the time of the study, prices of foodstuflPs had gone up without
a comparable rise in income and people were especially conscious of
the rising cost of food. Three questions concerning food retrench¬
ment were asked: (i) "Which foods are you already cutting because
of the increase in the price of food.^" (2) "If prices continue to rise,
which foods might you cut?” (3) "Even if prices continue to rise,
which foods are you particularly anxious not to cut?”
On the basis of the answers to these three questions it was possible
to construct a scale of conflict in terms of which each individual
could be rated.
It was assumed that there was some conflict associated with a given
food if it was mentioned in answer to any one of the questions, and
that the conflict would show a progressive increase (i) if the food
had already been cut and might be cut still further (questions i and
2), (2) if the food might be cut but was one which the individual
did not want to cut (questions 2 and 3), and still more (3) if the
food was one which had already been cut but was one which the
individual did not want to cut (questions i and 3).
For the total group, meat has a significantly higher conflict rating
than that of any other food. Its conflict rating, however, varies con¬
siderably among the groups, being lowest for the high group and
highest for the Czechs and middle income group. Vegetables and
milk are second and third highest in the total group. These three
foods which produce the greatest conflict are also those which are
considered the most essential. At the time of this study, meat had
been by far the most frequently cut food. Although it was considered
^^4 Field Theory in Social Science
an essential food, it was one of the most expensive, and cutting it
could produce a greater saving than cutting any other food. From
this analysis we should expect also that cutting meat would produce
the greatest emotional disturbance.
C. APPLICATION TO PROBLEMS OF CHANGE
How strong the forces are which resist changes of food habits in
a certain direction can be investigated finally only by actual attempts
to change food habits, that is, by an experimental approach. No
amount of questionnairing can be a substitute for experiments. How¬
ever, much of the information gathered from interviews can be help¬
ful in planning experiments. Two such types of information may be
indicated.
1. Substitutability of Essential Foods. The effect of certain moti¬
vational forces toward changes in food habits will depend upon the
flexibility of these habits. One factor related to flexibility is the degree
to which undesirable or unattainable food can be replaced by another
food.
We approached this question by asking the housewives what they
would substitute for each of the foods listed as essential. In general
the substitutes fall into nutritionally similar categories: oranges for
lemons, fats for shortening, cheese and eggs for meat, oleomargarine
for butter, another kind of vegetable for the one named, fruits for
vegetables, etc. Nutritionally dissimilar substitutes were mentioned
only by those in the low income group. This finding is in line with
the fact that the lower the level of satisfaction of a need the greater
is the range of possible consummatory actions for it.
2. Basis of Change of Food Habits. Changes in availability of food
is one obvious cause of changes of food habits. The area of available
food may shrink considerably, as is the case in a situation of short¬
ages. This necessitates a change in type and frequently in amount of
consumption.
A second cause of changes of eating habits is a change concern¬
ing the food channels. An example of shifting to more available
channels in time of war is the change to gardening and canning.
A third possibility is a psychological change: a food that had been
considered "food for others, but not for us" may become "food for
us.” Food shortages may facilitate such change. An example is
Psychological Ecology 185
the increased use of glandular meats during the rationing of meats.
Whereas a housewife might heretofore have passed them by, she
may now consider them seriously and buy them frequently because
of their availability and low "point cost." Similar changes can occur
with respect to patterns of meals. In the American culture the "food
basket” has three distinct parts assigned to breakfast, lunch, dinner;
many foods are considered fit for only one part. In case of food
shortage this might change. Since lunch is the least structured meal
there might be a greater readiness to change the content of the
lunch than of the other meals.
A fourth possibility for change in food habits is to change the
potencies of the frames of reference. This can be accomplished in
one of two ways: (i) Changing the relative potency of the frames
of reference. For example, the emphasis during the war upon nutri¬
tional eating was planned to increase the relative potency of the
"health” frame of reference ("Eating well to make a strong nation”).
(2) Changing the content of the frames of reference, that is, the
foods related to them. During the first two years of the war the
position of fowl undoubtedly changed from that of a "fuss” food,
in the direction of an everyday substitute for other meats which were
less available. It is quite possible that there was some resistance at
first to using it as an "ordinary” meat for everyday meals because
of its high position in the "fuss” or "company” frame of reference.
fifth possibility for change is a change in belongingness to
'gating groups." Increased incidence of school luncheons and eating
in factories should be mentioned here.
In summary, food behavior is determined by the dynamics of the
food situation which includes the channels through which food comes
to the table, the gatekeeper governing the channels at various points,
and the food ideology of the gatekeeper. A system of values is the
basis of some of the forces which determine decisions about food
and bring about conflicts of varying intensities.
Generality of the Theory
The kind of analysis which we have made here with special refer¬
ence to changing food habits may be applied quite generally. Social
and economic channels may be distinguished in any type of formal-
i86 Field Theory in Social Science
ized institution. Within these channels gate sections can be located.
Social changes in large measure are produced by changing the con¬
stellation of forces within these particular segments of the channel.
The analytic task is approached from the point of view of psycho¬
logical ecology; nonpsychological data are first investigated to deter¬
mine the boundary conditions for those who are in control of various
segments of the channel.
Gate sections are governed either by impartial rules or by ’’gate¬
keepers.” In the latter case an individual or group is "in power” to
make the decision between ”in” or ’’out.” Understanding the func¬
tioning of the gate becomes equivalent then to understanding the
factors which determine the decisions of the gatekeepers, and chang¬
ing the social process means influencing or replacing the gatekeeper.
The first diagnostic task in such cases is that of finding the actual
gatekeepers. This requires essentially a sociological analysis and
must be carried out before one knows whose psychology has to be
studied or who has to be educated if a social change is to be accom¬
plished.
Similar considerations hold for any social constellation which has
the character of a channel, a gate, and gatekeeper. Discrimination
against minorities will not be changed as long as forces are not
changed which determine the decisions of the gatekeepers. Their
decisions depend partly on their ideology—that is, their system of
values and beliefs which determine what they consider to be ’’good
or "bad”—and partly on the way they perceive the particular situation.
Thus if we think of trying to reduce discrimination within a factory,
a school system, or any other organized institution^ we should con¬
sider the social life there as something which flows through certain
channels. We then see that there are executives or boards who decide
who is taken into the organization or who is kept out of it, who is
promoted, and so on. The techniques of discrimination in these
organizations is closely linked with those mechanics which make the
life of the members of an organization flow in definite channels.
Thus discrimination is basically linked with problems of management,
with the actions of gatekeepers who determine what is done and what
is not done.
We saw in our analysis of the flow of food through channels that
the constellation of forces before and after the gate region is deci-
Psychological Ecology 187
sively different. Thus, an expensive food encounters a strong force
against entering a channel but once it does enter the same force
pushes it on through. This situation holds not only for food channels
but also for the traveling of a news item through certain communica«
tion channels in a group, for movement of goods, and the social
locomotion of individuals in many organizations. A university, for
instance, might be quite strict in its admission policy and might set
up strong forces against the passing of weak candidates. Once a
student is admitted, however, the university frequently tries to do
everything in its power to help everyone along. Many business
organizations follow a similar policy. Organizations which dis¬
criminate against members of a minority group frequently use the
argument that they are not ready to accept individuals whom they
would be unable to promote sufficiently.
The relation between social channels, social perception, and
decision is methodologically and practically of considerable signifi¬
cance. The theory of channels and gatekeepers helps to define more
precisely how certain "objective” sociological problems of locomo¬
tion of goods and persons intersect with "subjective” psychological
and cultural problems. It points to sociologically characterized places,
like gates and social channels, where attitudes count most for certain
social processes and where individual or group decisions have a
particularly great social effect.
IX
Frontiers in Group Dynamics
(1947)
ITTJTJTrUXnjTJTJTJTJTJT^^
O NE of the by-products of the second World War of which
society is hardly aware is the new stage of development which
the social sciences have reached. This development indeed may prove
to be as revolutionary as the atom bomb. Applying cultural anthro¬
pology to modern rather than ‘'primitive” cultures, experimentation
with groups inside and outside the laboratory, the measurement of
socio-psychological aspects of large social bodies, the combination of
economic, cultural, and psychological fact-finding—all of these
developments started before the war. But, by providing unprecedented
facilities and by demanding realistic and workable solutions to
scientific problems, the war has accelerated greatly the change of
social sciences to a new developmental level.
The scientific aspects of this development center around three
objectives:
I. Integrating social sciences.
2. Moving from the description of social bodies to dynamic
problems of changing group life.
3. Developing new instruments and techniques of social research.
Theoretical progress has hardly kept pace with the development
of techniques. It is, however, as true for the social as for the physical
and biological sciences that without adequate conceptual develop¬
ment, science cannot proceed beyond a certain stage. It is an im¬
portant step forward that the hostility to theorizing which dominated
a number of social sciences ten years ago has all but vanished. It has
been replaced by a relatively widespread recognition of the necessity
188
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 189
for developing better concepts and higher levels of theory. The
theoretical development will have to proceed rather rapidly if social
science is to reach that level of practical usefulness which society
needs for winning the race against the destructive capacities set free
by man’s use of the natural sciences.
Concept, Method, and Reality in Social Science
1. DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES OF SCIENCES
For planning and executing research a clear insight into the present
stage of scientific development is needed. Research means taking the
next step from the known into the jungle of the unknown. To choose
scientifically significant objectives and procedures it does not suffice
to be acquainted with the factual knowledge available at a given
stage. It is also necessary to free oneself from the scientific prejudices
typical of a given developmental stage.
To gain sufficient distance from scientific details and to gain
proper perspective for determining next steps the scientist may avail
himself of the findings of "comparative theory of science." This
discipline deals with the developmental stages of sciences, with
their differences and equalities, and can sometimes provide useful
yardsticks or way-posts to the empirical scientist.
The types of obstacles which have to be overcome when proceed¬
ing to a next scientific step are frequently quite different from what
one may expect. Looking backwards it is often hard to understand
how anyone could have been influenced by those arguments which
have delayed scientific progress for considerable time.
Ernst Cassirer, who has analyzed the developmental stages of the
natural sciences, and who had a great gift of viewing logical prob¬
lems as they appear to the person doing research, points out that
scientific progress has frequently the form of a change in what is
considered to be "real” or "existing" (4),
2. THE PROBLEM OF EXISTENCE IN AN EMPIRICAL SCIENCE
Arguments about "existence" may seem metaphysical in nature and
may therefore not be expected to be brought up in empirical sciences.
Actually, opinions about existence or nonexistence are quite com¬
mon in the empirical sciences and have greatly influenced scientific
190 Field Theory in Social Science
development in a positive and a negative way. Labeling something as
"nonexisting” is equivalent to declaring it "out of bounds” for
the scientist. Attributing "existence” to an item automatically makes
it a duty of the scientist to consider this item as an object of research;
it includes the necessity of considering its properties as "facts” which
cannot be neglected in the total system of theories; finally, it implies
that the terms with which one refers to the item are accepted as
scientific "concepts” (rather than as "mere words”).
Beliefs regarding "existence” in social science have changed in
regard to the degree to which "full reality” is attributed to psycho¬
logical and social phenomena, and in regard to the reality of their
"deeper,” dynamic properties.
In the beginning of this century, for instance, the experimental
psychology of "will and emotion” had to fight for recognition
against a prevalent attitude which placed volition, emotion, and
sentiments in the "poetic realm” of beautiful words, a realm to which
nothing corresponds which could be regarded as "existing” in the
sense of the scientist. Although every psychologist had to deal with
these facts realistically in his private life, they were banned from
the realm of "facts” in the scientific sense. Emotions were declared
to be something too "fluid” and "intangible” to be pinned down
by scientific analysis or by experimental procedures. Such a methodo¬
logical argument does not deny existence to the phenomenon but it
has the same effect of keeping the topic outside the realm of empirical
science.
Like social taboos, a scientific taboo is kept up not so much by a
rational argument as by a common attitude among scientists: any
member of the scientific guild who does not strictly adhere to the
taboo is looked upon as queer; he is suspected of not adhering to
the scientific standards of critical thinking.
3. THE REALITY OF SOCIAL PHENOMENA
Before the invention of the atom bomb the average physical
scientist was hardly ready to concede to social phenomena the same
degree of "reality” as to a physical object. Hiroshima and Nagasaki
seem to have made many physical scientists ready to consider social
facts as being perhaps of equal reality. This change of mind was
hardly based on philosophical considerations. The bomb has driven
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 191
home with dramatic intensity the degree to which social happenings
are both the result of, and the conditions for the occurrence of,
physical events. Gradually, the period is coming to an end when the
natural scientist thinks of the social scientist as someone interested
in dreams and words rather than as an investigator of facts, which
are not less real than physical facts and which can be studied no less
objectively.
The social scientists themselves, of course, have had a stronger
belief in the '"reality” of the entities they were studying. Still, this
belief was frequently limited to the specific narrow section with
which they happened to be familiar. The economist, for instance,
finds it a bit difficult to concede to psychological, to anthropological,
or to legal data that degree of reality which he gives to prices and
other economic data. Some psychologists still view with suspicion the
reality of those cultural facts with which the anthropologist is con¬
cerned. They tend to regard only individuals as real and they are
not inclined to consider a "group atmosphere” as something which
is as real and measurable as, let us say, a physical field of gravity.
Concepts like that of "leadership” retained a halo of mysticism even
after it had been demonstrated that it is quite possible to measure,
and not only to "judge,” leadership performance.
The denial of existence of a group, or of certain aspects of group
life, is based on arguments which grant existence only to units of
certain size, or which concern technical methodological problems, or
conceptual problems.
4. REALITY AND DYNAMIC WHOLES
Cassirer (4) discusses how, periodically throughout the history
of physics, vivid discussions have occurred about the reality of the
atom, the electron, or whatever else was considered at that time to
be the smallest part of physical material. In the social sciences it has
usually been not the part but the whole, whose existence has been
doubted.
Logically, there is no reason to distinguish between the reality of
a molecule, an atom, or an ion, or more generally between the
reality of a whole or its parts. There is no more magic behind the
fact that groups have properties of their own, which are different
from the properties of their subgroups or their individual members.
192 Field Theory tn Social Science
than behind the fact that molecules have properties which are dif¬
ferent from the properties of the atoms or ions of which they are
composed.
In the social as in the physical field the structural properties of a
dynamic whole are different from the structural properties of sub¬
parts. Both sets of properties have to be investigated. When one,
and when the other, is important depends upon the question to be
answered. But there is no difference of reality between them.
If this basic statement is accepted, the problem of existence of a
group loses its metaphysical flavor. Instead we face a series of
empirical problems. They are equivalent to the chemical question
whether a given aggregate is a mixture of different types of atoms,
or whether these atoms have formed molecules of a certain type. The
answer to such a question has to be given in chemistry, as in the
social sciences, on the basis of an empirical probing into certain
testable properties of the case in hand.
For instance, it may be wrong to state that the blond women living
in a town "exist as a group," in the sense of being a dynamic whole
characterized by a close interdependence of members. They are merely
a number of individuals who are "classified under one concept"
according to the similarity of one of their properties. If, however,
the blond members of a workshop are made an "artificial minority"
and are discriminated against by their colleagues they may well
become a group with specific structural properties.
Structural properties are characterized by relations between parts
rather than by the parts or elements themselves. Cassirer emphasizes
that throughout the history of mathematics and physics problems of
constancy of relations rather than of constancy of elements have
gained importance and have gradually changed the picture of what
is essential. The social sciences seem to show a very similar develop¬
ment.
5. REALITY AND METHODS; RECORDING AND EXPERIMENTATION
If recognition of the existence of an entity depends upon this
entity’s showing properties or constancies of its own, the judgment
about what is real or unreal should be affected by changes in the
possibility of demonstrating social properties.
The social sciences have considerably improved techniques for
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 193
reliably recording the structure of small or large groups and of
registering the various aspects of group life. Sociometric techniques,
group observation, interview techniques, and others are enabling us
more and rflore to gather reliable data on the structural properties of
groups, on the relations between groups or subgroups, and on the
relation between a group and the life of its individual members.
The taboo against believing in the existence of a social entity is
probably most effectively broken by handling this entity experi¬
mentally. As long as the scientist merely describes a leadership
form he is open to the criticism that the categories used reflect
merely his “subjective views” and do not correspond to the "real”
properties of the phenomena under consideration. If the scientist
experiments with leadership and varies its form, he relies on an
“operational definition” which links the concept of a leadership
form to concrete procedures of creating such a leadership form or
to the procedures for testing its existence. The "reality” of that to
which the concept refers is established by "doing something with”
rather than "looking at,” and this reality is independent of certain
"subjective” elements of classification. The progress of physics from
Archimedes to Einstein shows consecutive steps by which this "prac¬
tical” aspect of the experimental procedure has modified and some¬
times revolutionized the scientific concepts regarding the physical
world by changing the beliefs of the scientists about what is and is
not real.
To vary a social phenomenon experimentally the experimenter
has to take hold of all essential factors even if he is not yet able to
analyze them satisfactorily. A major omission or misjudgment on
this point makes the experiment fail. In social research the experi¬
menter has to take into consideration such factors as the personality
of individual members, the group structure, ideology and cultural
values, and economic factors. Group experimentation is a form of
social management. To be successful it, like social management, has
to take into account all of the various factors that happen to be im¬
portant for the case in hand. Experimentation with groups will there¬
fore lead to a natural integration of the social sciences, and it will
force the social scientist to recognize as reality the totality of factors
which determine group life.
194
Field Theory in Social Science
6 . SOCIAL REALITY AND CONCEPTS
It seems that the social scientist has a better chance of accomplish*
ing such a realistic integration than the social practitioner. For
thousands of years kings» priests, politicians, educators, producers,
fathers and mothers—in fact, all individuals—have been trying day
by day to influence smaller or larger groups. One might assume that
this would have led to accumulated wisdom of a well-integrated
nature. Unfortunately nothing is further from the truth. We know
that our average diplomat thinks in very one-sided terms, perhaps
those of law, or economics, or military strategy. We know that the
average manufacturer holds highly distorted views about what makes
a work-team “tick.” We know that no one can answer today even
such relatively simple questions as what determines the productivity
of a committee meeting.
Several factors have come together to prevent practical experience
from leading to clear insight. Certainly the man of affairs is con¬
vinced of the reality of group life, but he is usually opposed to a
conceptual analysis. He prefers to think in terms of "intuition and
"intangibles.” The able practitioner frequently insists that it is im¬
possible to formulate simple, clear rules about how to reach a social
objective. He insists that different actions have to be taken according
to the various situations, that plans have to be highly flexible and
sensitive to the changing scene.
If one tries to transform these sentiments into scientific language,
they amount to the following statements: (a) Social events depend
on the social field as a whole, rather than on a few selected items.
This is the basic insight behind the field-theoretical method which
has been successful in physics, which has steadily grown in psychol¬
ogy, and, in my opinion, is bound to be equally fundamental for
the study of social fields, simply because it expresses certain basic
general characteristics of interdependence, (b) The denial of simple
rules” is partly identical with the following important principle of
scientific analysis. Science tries to link certain observable (pheno¬
typical) data with other observable data. It is crucial for all problems
of interdependence, however, that—for reasons which we do not
need to discuss here—it is, as a rule, impracticable to link one set
of phenotypical data directly to other phenotypical data. Instead it
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 195
is necessary to insert “intervening variables." To use a more com¬
mon language: the practitioner as well as the scientist views the
observable data as mere “symptoms.” They are “surface” indications
of some “deeper lying” facts. He has learned to “read” the symptoms,
like a physicist reads his instruments. The equations which express
physical laws refer to such deeper lying dynamic entities as pressure,
energy, or temperature rather than to the directly observable symp¬
toms such as the movements of the pointer of an instrument (4).
The dynamics of social events provides no exception to this gen¬
eral characteristic of dynamics. If it were possible to link a directly ob¬
servable group behavior, B, with another behavior, (B = F [ 5^3
where F means a simple function), then simple rules of procedure
for the social practitioner would be possible. When the practitioner
denies that such rules can be more than poor approximations he
seems to imply that the function, F, is complicated. I am inclined
to interpret his statement actually to mean that in group life, too,
“appearance” should be distinguished from the “underlying facts,”
that similarity of appearance may go together with dissimilarity of
the essential properties, and vice-versa, and that laws can be formu¬
lated only in regard to these underlying dynamic entities: k = F
(n, m) where k, n, m refer not to behavioral symptoms but to in¬
tervening variables.
For the social scientist this means that he should give up thinking
about such items as group structure, group tension, or social forces
as nothing more than a popular metaphor or analogy which should
be eliminated from science as much as possible. While there is no
need for social science to copy the specific concepts of the physical
sciences, the social scientist should be clear that he, too, needs inter¬
vening variables, and that these dynamic facts, rather than the symp¬
toms and appearances, are the important points of reference alike
for him and for the social practitioner.
7. “subjective” and "objective” elements in the
SOCIAL field; the three-step procedure
One last point concerning conceptualization and general method-
olog)' may be mentioned. To predict the course of a marriage, for
instance, a psychologist might proceed in the following way. He
might start by analyzing the life space of the husband. H. This
196 Field Theory in Social Science
analysis would involve the relevant physical and social facts in the
husband’s surroundings, including the expectations and character of
his wife, W, all represented in the way the husband, H, perceives
them. Let us assume that this analysis is sufficiently complete to per¬
mit the derivation of the resultant forces on the husband (Figure 20,
upper left diagram). This would be equivalent to a prediction of
Figure 20. The life spaces of a husband and a wife and the social field contain*
ing them both.
what the husband actually will do as his next step. The data about
the life space of the husband might be sufficiently elaborate to de¬
termine the resultant force on the wife, W, as he sees her. This
resultant force, however, would not indicate what the wife will
actually do but merely what the husband expects his wife to do.
To derive the next conduct of the wife, her life space would have
to be analy2ed (Figure 20, upper right diagram). Usually the wife
will see the situation, including herself W, and her husband, H,
somewhat differently from her husband. Let us assume she sees her
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 197
husband located in an area corresponding to his own perception of
himself; that she perceives her own position, however, as being in
region E rather than £); and that the cognitive structure of the in¬
termediate regions B and C are for her, too, somewhat different
from what they are for her husband. Corresponding to this difference
between the life spaces of the husband and wife, the resultant force
on the wife, W, may point to the region F rather than to C. This
means that the wife will actually move toward F rather than toward C
as her husband expected.
The considerations thus far give the basis for predicting the next
moves of husband and wife to the region B and F respectively
(Figure 20, middle diagram) : analyzing the two psychological (“sub¬
jective") fields gives the basis for predicting the actual (“objective")
next step of behavior.
But how do we proceed from here if we are to answer the social
problem of the fate of the marriage? Neither husband nor wife had
expected their partner to behave as he or she actually did. Obviously,
the next step will depend largely on how each will react to this sur¬
prise, how each will interpret the conduct of the other, or, more
generally speaking, how each will “perceive" the new situation.
The husband who has expected his wife to move from D to C and
now sees her moving in the opposite direction, to F, may interpret
this to mean that his wife has “changed her mind." In this case he
may expect her next move to proceed in the same direction, namely
toward G (Figure 20, lower left diagram). Furthermore, the be¬
havior of his wife is likely to change for him the “meaning" of C,
that is, the cognitive structure of the situation. The wife who sees
her husband move to B rather than G may perceive this to be an
excursion to an activity which would be completed in a certain time
after which he would return to A (Figure 20, lower right diagram).
She therefore decides to join her husband in B, whereas her husband,
having a different perception of tjie situation, intends to move on
to F. which he perceives as being closer to his wife.
Obviously, husband and wife will soon be in trouble if they do
not "talk things over,” that is, if they do not communicate to each
other the structure of their life spaces with the object of equalizing
them.
This analysis of the history of a marriage has proceeded in a series
198 Field Theory in Social Science
of three steps: first, a separate analysis of the psychological situation
of the husband and that of the wife, at time i, with the purpose of
deriving the next behavior of each. Second, representing the resultant
sociological ("objective”) situation at time 2. Third, deriving with
the help of the laws of perception the resultant psychological situa¬
tion for husband and wife at time 2. This would give the basis for
the next sequence of three steps, starting with the analysis of the
psychological situation of the persons involved to predict their actual
next step.
Such a procedure looks involved, particularly if we consider groups,
composed of many members. Is it possible to eliminate the "ob¬
jective” or the "subjective” aspect of this analysis? Actually, social
science faces here two types of question; one concerning the size of
units, the other concerning the role of perception in group life. It
would be prohibitive if the analysis of group life always had to in¬
clude analysis of the life space of each individual member.
Analysis of group life can proceed rather far on the basis of rela¬
tively larger units. In the end, of course, the theory of small and
large units has to be viewed in social science as well as in physical
science as one theoretical system. But this stage can be reached only
after an attack on both the larger and the smaller units.
Unfortunately, treating groups as units does not eliminate the
dilemma between "subjective” and "objective” aspects of social fields.
It seems to be impossible to predict group behavior without taking
into account group goals, group standards, group values, and the
way a group "sees” its own situation and that of other groups. Group
conflicts would have quite different solutions if the various groups
concerned did not perceive differently the situation existing at a
given time. To predict or to understand the steps leading to war
between two nations A and B it seems to be essential to refer to the
group life space of A and to the different group life space of B.
This means that the analysis of group interaction has again to follow
a three-step procedure, moving from the separate analysis of the life
space of each group to the group conduct in the total social field
and from there back again to the effect on the group life space.
This procedure of analysis which swings from an analysis of "per¬
ception” to that of "action,” from the "subjective” to the "objective,
and back again is not an arbitrary demand of scientific methodology,
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 199
nor is it limited to the interaction between groups or between indi¬
viduals. The procedure mirrors one of the basic properties of group
life. Any kind of group action or individual action, even including
that of the insane, is regulated by circular causal processes of the
following type: individual perception or "fact-finding”—for instance,
an act of accounting—is linked with individual action or group ac¬
tion in such a way that the content of the perception or fact-finding
depends upon the way in which the situation is changed by action.
The result of the fact-finding in turn influences or steers action.
Certain schools in psychology, sociology, and economics have
tended to eliminate the problems of perception. The analysis of all
social sciences, however, will have to take into account both sections
of this circular process. The following discussion of the mathematical
representation of social problems should not be misunderstood as
trying to minimize the importance of cognitive processes in group
life. It is rather based on the conviction that field-theoretical psy¬
chology has demonstrated the possibility of including them in su<^
a treatment.
I
Quasi-Stationary Equilibria in Group Life and
The Problem of Social Change
Periods of social change may differ quite markedly from periods
of relative social stability. Still, the conditions of these two states of
affairs should be analyzed together for two reasons: (a) Change and
constancy are relative concepts; group life is never without change,
merely differences in the amount and type of change exist, (b) Any
formula which states the conditions for change implies the conditions
for no-change as limit, and the conditions of constancy can be an¬
alyzed only against a background of "potential” change.
I. CONSTANCY AND RESISTANCE TO CHANGE
It is important to distinguish two questions which are generally
not sufficiently separated; the one concerns actual change or lack of
change, the other concerns resistance to change. A given group may
show little change during a period of, let us say, two weeks. The
group may be composed of friends on an island in the middle of
their vacation, or a work-team in a factory. Let us assume that the
200 Field Theory in Social Science
conditions under which this group lives happen to stay constant dur¬
ing this period: no individual leaves or joins the group, no major
friction occurs, the facilities for activities or work remain the same,
etc. Under these circumstances the constancy of group life—for in¬
stance, the unchanged level of production—does not require any
other “explanation” than the reference to the principle: the same
conditions lead to the same effect. This principle is identical with
the general idea of lawfulness of group life.
The case would be different if the production level of the work-
team were maintained in spite of the fact that a member of the work-
team took sick or that inferior or superior material was provided. If,
in spite of such changes in the group life setting, production is kept
at the same level, then can one speak of “resistance” to change of
the rate of production. The mere constancy of group conduct does
not prove stability in the sense of resistance to change, nor does much
change prove little resistance. Only by relating the actual degree of
constancy to the strength of forces toward or away from the present
state of affairs can one speak of degrees of resistance or “stability”
of group life in a given respect.
The practical task of social management, as well as the scientific
task of understanding the dynamics of group life, requires insight
into the desire for and resistance to, specific change. To solve or even
to formulate these questions adequately we need a system of analysis
which permits the representation of social forces in a group setting.
The following considerations are directed more toward the improve¬
ment of these analytical tools than toward the analysis of a par¬
ticular case.
2 . SOCIAL FIELDS AND PHASE SPACES
A basic tool for the analysis of group life is the representation of
the group and its setting as a “social field." This means that the
social happening is viewed as occurring in, and being the result of,
a totality of coexisting social entities, such as groups, subgroups,
members, barriers, channels of communication, etc. One of the funda¬
mental characteristics of this field is the relative position of the en¬
tities, which are parts of the field. This relative position represents
the structure of the group and its ecological setting. It expresses also
the basic possibilities of locomotion within the field.
201
Frontiers in Group Dynamics
What happens within such a field depends upon the distribution
of forces throughout the field. A prediction presupposes the ability
to determine for the various points of the field the strength and direc¬
tions of the resultant forces.
According to general field theory the solution of a problem of
group life has always to be finally based on an analytical procedure
of this type. Only by considering the groups in question in their
actual setting, can we be sure that none of the essential possible con¬
duct has been overlooked.
Figure 21. level of equilibrium and strength of opposing forces determining
the level of discrimination in two towns.
Certain aspects of social problems, however, can be answered
through a different analytical device called "phase space." The phase
space is a system of coordinates, each corresponding to different
amounts of intensities of one "property.” The phase space does not
intend to represent the layout of a field composed of groups, indi¬
viduals, and their ecological setting, but concentrates on one or a few
factors. It represents, by way of graphs or equations, the quantitative
relation between these few properties, variables or aspects of the
field, or of an event in it.
202 Field Theory in Social Science
For the discussion of the conditions of change we make use of
such a phase space, reali2ing that one has finally to refer back to the
actual social field.
3. SOCIAL STATES AS QUASl-STATIONARY PROCESSES
It is possible to represent the change in discrimination against
Negroes in towns A and B by means of a curve in a diagram where
the ordinate represents degrees of discrimination and the abscissa,
time (Figure 21). In this way the level of discrimination in the two
towns can be represented (A is more discriminatory than 5 ), the
direction and rapidity of change (gradual decrease in A between the
time 2 and 3, sudden increase in B at time 3 ), the amount of fluctua¬
tion (in the period 4—6, A shows relatively much, B relatively little
fluctuation).
By "degree of discrimination” we are obviously not referring to
the quality of a static object but to the quality of a process, namely
the interaction between two populations. Discrimination refers to a
number of refusals and permissions, orderings and yieldings, which
indicate open and closed possibilities for various individuals in their
daily living.
Similarly when speaking of the production level of a work-team
one refers to the "flow” of products. In both cases we are dealing
with a process which, like a river, continuously changes its elements
even if its velocity and direction remain the same. In other words,
we refer to the characteristic of quasi-stationary processes. The im¬
portance of quasi-stationary equilibria for the psychological problems
of individual life has been emphasized by Koehler (6).
In regard to quasi-stationary processes one has to distinguish two
questions: (i) Why does the process under the present circumstances
proceed on this particular level (for instance, why does the water
in this river move with this particular velocity)? and (2) What are
the conditions for changing the present circumstances?
4. A GENERAL ANALYTICAL TREATMENT OF QUASI-STATIONARY
SOCIAL EQUILIBRIA
Concerning the relation between the character of the process and
the present conditions, certain analytical statements of a rather gen¬
eral nature can be made.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 203
Frequently, analytical conceptual tools (intervening variables) must
be developed to a relatively elaborate stage before they are ready to
be linked to observable facts. In the beginning it seems to be easier
to make empirical use of secondary derivations; only gradually is
one able to design experiments to test the fundamentals more directly.
The concept of “force,*’ for instance, is more fundamental than the
concept “resultant of forces.” It is, however, easier in psychology
and sociology to coordinate an observable fact to a resultant of forces
than to the components: certain aspects of behavior can be directly
related to the resultant force, whereas we are able at present to de¬
termine psychological component forces only under special condi¬
tions (3). We have thought it advisable, therefore, to develop in
some detail the conceptual analysis before discussing examples and
specific testable theories.
a. The Level of a Quasi-Stationary Process as a Quasi-Sfationary
Equilibrium. In the case of discrimination, for instance, certain social
forces drive toward more discrimination. The interest of certain sec¬
tions of the white population to keep certain jobs for themselves is
such a force; other forces correspond to ideals of the white and col¬
ored population about what is “proper” or “not proper” work, etc.
Other forces act against greater discrimination: the colored popula¬
tion may show signs of rebellion against higher degrees of discrimi¬
nation, the white may consider “too much” discrimination unfair,
etc. If we indicate the forces toward greater discrimination in the
community A by and the forces toward less discrimination by
/a.s we may state that and fA,t are equal in strength and opposite
in direction.^
‘ The notation of forces follows on the whole the notation I have used for psy¬
chological problems (8); fp.g means a force acting on the person P in the direction
toward g. fp.-g indicates a force on P in the direction away from g. rfp.g is a re¬
straining force against P's moving toward g. f*p. g means a resultant force which has
the direction toward g. The strength of the force fp.g is indicated by 1 fp.g [.
If not the individual P but a group Gr is viewed as the point of application of the
force, a force toward g is indicated as for.g away from g as for.-g. To refer to forces
acting on different groups A or group B, or on the same group in different positions
A and B, we will use the notation for. a. g and far. a. g or the shorter notation
fA.g and fo.g. The reader should keep in mind, however, that if we say that a force
fA.g exists at a position (or a level) A we mean that a force is acting on a group
in the position A or that it would act on the group if the group were in that posi¬
tion. The concept of force field refers to such potential positions.
204 Field Theory in Social Science
( ^ ) fA..g + = o
This ecjuation does not determine the absolute strength of the
forces. The strengtli of the opposing forces at the time i in town A
may be smaller or greater than in town B \fA.o\ > | fB.g. \ (Figure 21).
The strength of the opposing forces may increase without a change
of the level. For instance, before the level of discrimination has de¬
creased in A the opposing forces may have increased:
I I == I u., I “> I u. I I u, I
This would imply that group tension has increased. A similar in¬
crease of the opposing forces may have occurred in town B at the
time 3 prior to the increase in discrimination:
I /b,» I I jn.g I I /b,« I I fB,g I
Social changes may or may not be preceded by an increase in the
opposing forces. Under some conditions, however, social changes can
be achieved much easier if the tension is previously decreased. This
is important for social management and for the theory of the after
effect of changes.
After the discrimination in the town A has decreased the tension
may gradually decrease so that
I fA.. I =< I /a,. I ^
In some cases, however, tension may increase: the decrease of dis¬
crimination may lead to a still stronger pressure of the suppressed
toward further advances and to an increased counterpressure. After
a change to a higher level of discrimination the opposing forces may
decrease again or may remain permanently stronger.
On the whole, then, we can say that a quasi-stationary social state
corresponds to equally strong opposing forces but that no general
statement concerning their absolute strength is possible.
b. Force Fields. Quasi-stationary processes are not perfectly con¬
stant but show fluctuations around an average level L. If we assume
the fluctuation to be due to the variation in the strength of an addi¬
tional force and the amount n of the change of the level t. to be
a function of the strength of this force, we can state that a force field
in the area of fluctuation around h. exists which has the following
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 205
characteristics: the opposing forces on all levels between L and
n) and between L and — n) are unequal with the stronger
force pointing toward the level L,.
{2) \f(L*n).z. > ;
I f(h-n),L > f(L-n).-L
The meaning of this statement becomes clearer if we consider the
resultant force f*L.x where f*L.x = fL.$ + fL.g- In case of a quasi¬
stationary process the resultant force on the level L equals zero (Fig¬
ure 22),
GRADIENTS OF RESULTANT FORCES (f*)
O RELATIVELY STEEP GRADIENT b. RELATIVELY FLAT GRADIENT
Gr«at
L
$moM
Figure 22. Gradients of resultant forces (/*).
(3) r 1.^=0
The direction of the resultant forces at the "neighboring levels”
(L.^ n) is toward level h, their strength increasing with the distance
from Z.. In other words, the resultant forces in the neighborhood of L,
have the character of a "positive central force field" (8).®
* A positive central force field is defined as a constellation of forces directed
toward one region. In a phase space where one dimension is time, one-may use this
term for a constellation where all forces are directed toward one level.
2 o 6 Field Theory itr Social Science
(4) i* (L±n).L^F(n}
The character of the function F determines how far, ceteris paribus,
the social process fluctuates in a specific case.
Changes of the level of quasi-stationary processes will occur if
and only if the numerical value of L changes for which the opposing
forces are equal. If the resultant force field loses the structure of a
central field, the social process loses its quasi-stationary character.
c. Force Field Within and Beyond the Neighborhood Range. It is
important to realize that a quasi-stationary process presupposes a cen¬
tral structure of the force field only within a certain neighborhood
area of L. The statement (4) does not need to hold for n above or
below a certain value. In other words, within a certain range stronger
forces are necessary to change the level to a larger extent and a weak¬
ening of these forces will lead to a return of the process toward the
previous level. If, however, the change has once gone beyond this
range « to a level (L±^ m), the process might show the tendency to
move on and not to return to the previous level. This seems to be
typical for revolutions after they have once overcome the initial re¬
sistance. In regard to the force field, this means that beyond the
"neighborhood range" of L the resultant forces are directed away
rather than toward L.
It is obvious that for most problems of management the width
of the range in which the process has the character of a stationary
equilibrium is of prime importance. This is equally fundamental for
the prevention of major managerial catastrophes and for bringing
about a desired permanent change.
d. The Effect of Various Gradients. Before referring to empirical
examples let us mention certain additional analytical conclusions.
Statement (4) characterizes the structure of the neighboring force
field but its gradient is not yet characterized. It might be more or
less steep (Figure 22, a and h). The gradient can be different above
and below L.
(5) Given the same amount of change of the strength of the re¬
sultant force (f*L.T), the amount of change of the level of social
process will be the smaller, the steeper the gradient.
This holds for permanent changes of L as well as for periodical
fluctuations.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 207
We have thus far referred to the conduct of the group as a whole.
If we consider individual differences within a group we may state:
(6) Ceteris paribus, individual differences of conduct in a group
will be smaller the steeper the gradient of the resultant force field in
the neighborhood of the group level.
Situations of different degrees of permissiveness can be viewed as
examples of different steepnesses of the gradient affecting the indi¬
viduals within a group. The greater range of activities permitted by
the democratic leader in the experiment of Lippitt and White (14)
was paralleled by greater differences of conduct among the indi¬
viduals in regard to such items as suggestions to leader, out-of-club-
field conversation, and attention demands to companions.
It would be important to relate quantitatively the ease of change
of the group level as a whole to the individual differences within the
group, although we do not expect to find this relation to be simple.
Examples of Quasi-Stationary Equilibrjum in
Different Areas of Group Life
The following examples are not intended to prove the correctness
of a theory for the given case. They are intended mainly to illustrate
principles and to prepare the way for the quantitative measurement
of social forces. In regard to the specific case they represent hypoth¬
eses which have to be tested experimentally.
In the absence of sufficient data on group experiments to illustrate
the various analytical principles which should be discussed we have
taken the liberty of using somewhat indiscriminately data concern-
ing groups, populations that do not happen to be groups, and in¬
dividuals.
I. level of aggressiveness in democratic
AND AUTOCRATIC ATMOSPHERES
Lippitt (13) and Lippitt and White (14) have compared the
amount of intermember aggression of the same groups of boys in
democratic and autocratic atmospheres. Since the personalities and
types of activities were kept constant, the change can be attributed
to the different social climate or form of leadership. They found that
2o8 Field Theory in Social Science
the group average of intermember aggressiveness in autocracy is
either very high or very low; in democracy it is on a more medium
level (Figure 23).
Let us assume that each of these levels of aggressiveness is a quasi¬
stationary equilibrium, and ask which forces tend to raise and which
to lower the level. One factor is the type of activity: a wild game
gives more chance for clashes than quiet work; a certain amoimt of
fighting might be fun for boys. Forces against intergroup aggression
o
z
UJ
UJ
o
to
ui
2
in
sn
O
q:
ui
(D
o
40
30
20
Zj »0
%
o
<
a Relotive
oi LeveU
b.Level of Oojriocrocy
AQQressive Autocrocv ^
(AA)
(III
i i i
i I i
Aiitocf Qoy
d. Level of ApoIMfic
Aulocrocy
Den^ocfo c y
t
f
t
T
t
t
T
r
♦
t
t
ID)
4
t
t
t
t
t
t
!"'n
Apolhelic Aulocrocy
iPA)
A
1
1 1
1*
1
[ I 1
I'l
l|i p*n I
Figure 23. Force fields at the different aggressiveness levels for aggressive
autocracy^ deinocracy, and apathetic autocracy •
might be: friendship between members; the presence of an adult
leader; the dignified character of the setting.
The actual conduct indicates that in the democratic atmosphere
these conflicting forces lead to an equilibrium
= 23. This implies a resultant force field of the character indi¬
cated in Figure 23^. , u «
If we use the force field in the democratic atmosphere as our base
for comparison, the higher level of aggressiveness in aggressive auto-
cratic (AAGr) (lA^ — 40) could be explained by an increase in tne
strength of forces toward more aggression or by a diminishing o
the forces toward less aggression. Actually both forces seem to ave
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 209
been altered in autocracy: the style of leadership and the irritation
due to the restriction of the space of free movement increases the
force toward aggressiveness
( I fAAOr ^ I > I foor.g \ )i
Lippitt found that the we-feeling which tends to decrease intermem-
aggression is diminished in autocracy
( I fAAOr .9 j < [ foOr.t \ )•
This would suffice to explain why the level of aggression increases
in autocracy (LPcilA^). If there were no other changes involved,
we could even derive a statement concerning the gradient of the
force held in the democratic situation: if the increase of the force
for.o equals m and the decrease of the force for.9 equals n, the strength
of the resultant force at level 40 would be I I = w +
How then can aggressiveness in apathetic autocracy (PA) be low
= ^)? Lippitt and White (14) found the we-feeling to be
low in both types of autocracy; it is unlikely that the irritating effect
of the frustrating autocratic leadership should not exist. We are in¬
clined rather to assume that the autocratic leadership form implies
an additional force ( for.e) which corresponds to the higher degree of
authoritarian control and which in these situations has the direction
against open agression.
As a rule we can assume that this force is rather strong and is con¬
siderably greater than m n (fpxor.c = p> n)). This auto¬
cratic control would keep open aggression very low in spite of the
greater force toward aggressions. Only if this control were, out of
one reason or other, sufficiently weakened so that j for.c | < n)
would the increased tendency toward aggression come into the open.
From this theory one could conclude: Although the resultant force
on the level of apathetic autocracy is of course again zero
(f*— O) the opposing components which make up the result¬
ant forces are greater than in the case of democracy. The strength of
this additional component is—compared with that in the democratic
situation— ceteris paribus equal to the pressure of the autocratic con¬
trol plus the force due to the difference in we-feeling ( \f\ •— p n).
In other words we would expect a high degree of inner tension
existing in apathetic autocracy in spite of its appearance of quietness
210 Field Theory in Social Science
and order. This additional tension would correspond to opposing
forces of the strength | | -\-n (Figure 2^d).
Since an autocratic atmosphere is less permissive than the demo¬
cratic atmosphere one may wonder how a high level of in-group
aggression can occur in autocracy. The answer lies in the fact that the
restrictive character of autocracy has two contradictory effects: (a) it
leads to frustration of the group members and therefore to an in¬
crease of fp^ff in the direction of more aggression, (b) The control
aspect of restriction is equivalent to a restraining force rfyj- against
in-group aggression. This inner contradiction is inherent in every
autocratic situation and is the basis of the higher tension level
(Figure 2^d).
From the point of view of management autocratic leadership is
confronted with the task of establishing a restraining force field
(of such strength and gradient that the intensity of open in¬
group aggression does not rise above a certain level. As a first step
toward this end, usually, the autocrat tries to strengthen his opera¬
tional means of control. Strengthening the police or other means of
power corresponds to an increase in the ‘'capacity” to control. If this
is actually used for stronger suppression, a higher degree of conflict
results. This means that a spiral has been set in motion which leads
to increasingly more tension, stronger forces toward aggression and
suppression.
There are two ways by which autocratic leaders try to avoid this
spiral. Restrictive control creates less frustration or at least less open
aggression if the individual accepts "blind obedience to the leader
as a value. Germany and Japan are examples of cultures where this
attitude is relatively strong. Hitler systematically tried to decrease
through an "education for discipline” in this sense. The second
method of reducing fp,g is based on the fact that the tension resulting
from a conflict is dynamically equivalent to a "need.” Need satis¬
faction, in this case open aggression, decreases fp,g at least for a
certain time. To permit open aggression, but to channel it in a way
which is not dangerous for the autocrat is an old technique of social
management for autocratic leaders. Another conclusion from the
general theory would be that, if the autocratic control in a case of
apathetic autocracy were abandoned, a high degree of open aggression
should occur as the result of removal of for.e^ Replacing the auto-
2II
Frontiers in Group Dynamics
cratic atmosphere with a democratic or laissez-faire atmosphere is
equivalent to such a removal. Indeed Lippitt and White (ii)
observed marked "boiling over" in the first meeting of transition
from apathetic autocracy to laissez-faire or democracy (Figure 24).
It is in line with the theory that this boiling over went to a highei
MEETINGS
Figure 24. Aggression in two groups of boys in different social climates.
level in the case of transition to laissez-faire than to democracy since
the general degree of control or self-control which counteracts inter-
member aggression is stronger in democracy than in laissez-faire.
This representation by way of a phase space takes into account
only certain aspects of the actual processes in the social field. For
instance, if authoritarian control weakens to the point of permitting
open intermember aggression, this aggression is likely to weaken
still further the level of control (unless the leader is "reacting" to
the situation by a heightening of control). These circular causal
processes have to be taken into account for prediction.
212
Field Theory in Social Science
1 , AN ATMOSPHERE AFFECTING INDIVIDUAL LEVELS OF CONDUCT
Figure 25 represents the amount of dominating behavior of a
member of an aggressive autocratic group and a member of a
democratic group. After an equality at the first meeting, the conduct
of the individuals changed in line with the social atmosphere. The
two members were changed from one group to the other after the
ninth meeting. The fact that after transfer each member rapidly
displayed the level of conduct shown by the other member before
M EETING
Figurb 25 . The effect of transfer from one group to another.
change indicates that the strength and the gradient of the resultant
force field corresponding to the two atmospheres was approximately
the same for both individuals.
3. SCAPEGOATING AND THE INTERDEPENDENCE OF
LEVELS OF CONDUCT
Data regarding the amount of dominance given and received by
individual members of an aggressive autocratic group can se^e as
an illustration for several general points concerning quasi-stationary
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 213
a. Levels of Received Hostility as Equilibria. It is appropriate to con¬
sider such a passive property as "being attacked" as a quasi-stationary
equilibrium. The amount of aggression received depends partly on
the degree to which the individual provokes or invites aggression
and the way he fights or does not fight back. Other factors are the
aggressiveness of the other members, the social atmosphere, etc.
On the whole, then, the constellation is the same as in the forces in
other cases of equilibrium: the forces always depend on the charac¬
teristics of the group or the individual in question and on his relation
to the surroundings.
I 24 56 789 10 II
MEETING
FxGURB 26. Domination received by individuals in a £roup.
b. Quitting and the Range of the Central Force Field. Scapegoat B
(Figure 26) quits membership in the club on the sixth day, scapegoat
C on the ninth day. These happenings are examples of the general
fact that a sufficiently large change of the level of equilibrium leads
to a basic change in the character of the total situation: too much
received dominance makes the member leave.
One may be tempted to represent the tendency of the individual
to leave the club after too much received hostility by means of a
central force field with a definite range beyond which the resultant
214 Field Theory in Social Science
forces are directed away from the level of equilibrium. Such a
representation could not indicate, however, that the individual leaves
the club since the coordinates of the phase space refer only to time
and to the amount of received dominance. To represent this fact
one has either to refer to the force constellation in the actual social
field or to introduce the degree of "eagerness to belong to the club”
as a third dimension of the phase space.
c. Interaction and Circular Causal Processes, The scapegoats A and
B who received much dominating behavior (Figure 26) themselves
showed much dominating behavior. This indicates a close relation
between being attacked and attacking. This relation has the character
of a circular causal process: the attack of A against B increases B’s
readiness to attack; the resultant attacks of B raise A's readiness, etc.
This would lead to a continuous heightening of the level of equi¬
librium for Ay for B, and for the group as a whole. This holds,
however, only within certain limits: if the attack of A is successful,
B might give in. This is another example of the fact that the change
of a social process which results from the change of the force field
determining the level of equilibrium may in itself affect the total
situation in the direction of a further change of the force field. This
example can, of course, be regarded as a case of nonequilibrium
which corresponds to a constellation of forces away from the present
level.
4. PRODUCTION IN A FACTORY
The output of a factory as a whole or of a work-team frequently
shows a relatively constant level of output through an extended
period of time. It can be viewed as a quasi-stationary equilibrium.
An analysis of the relevant forces is of prime importance for under¬
standing and planning changes.
One of the forces keeping production down is the strain of hard
or fast work. There is an upper ceiling for human activity. For many
types of work the force away from the strain fp, _>( increases faster
the closer one comes to the upper limit. The force field has probably
a gradient similar to an exponential curve.
The common belief views the desire to make more money (fp,m)
as the most important force toward higher production levels. To
counter the gradient of the forces fp, away from fast work.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics
Figure 27. Effect of group decision and pacing cards in a sewing factory.
various incentive systems are used which offer higher rates of pay
above a certain standard.
Several reasons make it unlikely that the force toward greater
output is actually proportional to the unit pay rate. An increase in
earning a certain amount means quite different things to different
people. Some factories which moved from a northern state to the
South ten years ago found it impossible for years to reach a level of
production which was at all comparable to that of northern workers.
One of the reasons was the fact that for the rural southern girls the
weekly pay was so much above previous living standards that they
did not care to make more money even for a relatively small additional
effort.
The relation between the total amount of earnings and the strength
and gradient of the force field differs with the subculture of the
2i6
Field Theory in Social Science
group. One fairly common pattern is the following: A sufficientljr
low level will lead to a very strong force jp, m toward more income;
a sufficiently high level, to a small force toward still higher earnings.
In some social groups the units on the scale correspond to ten dollars,
in others to a hundred or a thousand dollars. The strength of a
force /j», m corresponding to an incentive will depend therefore upon
the general ‘'living standards’* of the group.
In teamwork one of the strongest forces is the desire to remain
not too far above or below the rest of the group. This holds pat-
Graot
o
&
Smoll
for.s
L*
y
' «
'
“ 1
%
► i
%
fcr^
►
L*
i
f ▼ » *
1 1 i 1
t t t
I t t
I I M
t
t^or.g
f
Cf.fl
Force
ie increased
R)fC6 fOf«t
i$ rtduced
\ _A _t
1
BEFORE CHANGING
LEVEL OF PRODUCTION
AFTER CHANGING PRO¬
DUCTION LEVEL THROUGH
STRENGTHENING FORCES
TOWARD HIGHER PRO-
AFTER CHANGING PRO¬
DUCTION LEVEL THROUGH
REDUCING FORCES TO¬
WARD LOWER PRODUC¬
TION
DUCTION
Figure 28. Two possible states of tension resulting from different ways of
rhanffino levels of oroduction.
ticularly between "parallel workers” or "friends ' in an assembly
line (18). An important force against increase of speed may be the
fear that a temporary increase of speed would bring about pressure
from the supervisor or foreman permanently to keep up the higher
speed. . i_ T» 1
Figure 27 presents data from experiments carried out by Bavelas.
The output of the sewing factory as a whole, of the experimental
population, and of a control population has a typical quasi-stationary
diaracter. After the introduction of pacing cards or group decision
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 217
the experimental groups show a marked increase to a new level of
equilibrium. W^e will not discuss here the details of the methods
used. They seem to be based at least in part on procedures which
reduce the forces that tend to keep production down rather than on
procedures that add new forces toward higher levels.
5. TWO BASIC METHODS OF CHANGING LEVELS OF CONDUCT
It is of great practical importance for any type of social manage¬
ment that production levels are quasi-stationary equilibria which can
Figurb 29. Effect of pacing cards on stability of production.
be changed either by adding forces in the desired direction or by
diminishing opporing forces.
(7) If a change from the level to D is brought about by increas¬
ing the forces toward L® (Figure 28a and b), the secondary effects
should be different from the case where the same change of level is
brought about by diminishing the opposing forces (Figure 28c).
In the first case, the process on the new level would be accom¬
panied by a state of relatively high tension, in the second case by a
state of relatively low tension.
2i8
Field Theory in Social Science
Since increase of tension above a certain degree goes parallel with
greater fatigue, higher aggressiveness, higher emotionality, and lower
constructiveness it is clear that as a rule the second method will be
preferable to the high-pressure method.
Figure 29 offers a striking example of the production of a
’’nervous” worker which is in line with these considerations. Her
average level was above the average of the group; she showed, how¬
ever, extreme variations in speed and frequent absenteeism. The use
of pacing cards led to an increase in production to an exceptionally
high level. At the same time, the fluctuation diminished markedly.
Since restlessness is a common symptom of tension we may assume
the greater constancy and the lack of absenteeism to be an expression
of the fact that the change of the level of production was accom¬
plished through a change in the force field corresponding to the
pattern 28c rather than 28b.
6. CAPACITY, LEARNING CURVES, AND EQUILIBRIA
a. Ability, Difficulty, and Change of Difficulty. One factor which
affects the level of many social events is ’’ability.” Ability is a
popular term which refers to a multitude of very different facts such
as the ability to speak French and the ability to take a beating.
Nevertheless, in regard to changes the term ability seems to imply
a reference to restraining rather than driving forces. Driving forces—
corresponding, for instance, to ambition, goals needs, or fears—are
"forces toward” something or "forces away from” something. They
tend to bring about locomotion or changes. A "restraining force” is
not in itself equivalent to a tendency to change; it merely opposes
driving forces.
A change in ability is equivalent to a change in the "difficulty of
a task.” Indeed, for the representation as forces in a phase space,
both are identical. Always we deal with a relation between an
individual or group and a task. The term ability or the term d^culty
is used according to whether one views the subject or the activity as
the variable in this relation.
Figure 30 shows the drop in work output after a worker is trans¬
ferred_on the same sewing machine—to a different sewing job.
Although for the two jobs the learning curve of newcomers and ffie
production level of old hands are equal on the average, indicating
219
Frontiers in Group Dynamics
Figure 30. Effect of group decision on slow workers after transfer
(data from Alex Baveias).
equal difficulty of the two jobs, transferred workers were found to
do less well on the new job. For a transferred worker, obviously,
the new task is more difficult than the previous one.
Let us assume that the resultant force field (of the driving and
restraining forces) before transfer corresponds to the central field
represented in Figure 31. Introducing the new task is equivalent to
220 Field Theory in Social Science
introducing a stronger restraining force or indeed to adding a field
of restraining forces against higher output.
If the transfer to the new job were to leave the force field other¬
wise unchanged we could make the following conclusion (Figure
31) : the strength of the added restraining force on the second (lower)
level L? at the time b (rf— —equal the strength of the resultant
L , ff
driving force existing on the level at the time a before the change
r> , e
FORCE FIELD BEFORE FORCE FIELD AFTER FORCE FIELD AFTER
TRANSFER TO NEW JOB TRANSFER IF TRANSFER IF
ONLY RESTRAINING DRIVING FORCE
FORCES ARE ADDED g IS DIMINISHED
Figure 31. Force field before and after transfer to a new job.
This would mean that the lowering of the output would be accom¬
panied by an increase in tension.
This is but another example for the theorem: that a change
brought about by adding forces in its direction leads to an increase
in tension. (In the previous case we had applied this theorem to a
change upwards, this time to a change downwards.)
This conclusion, however, is not in line with observations. Actually.
221
Frontiers in Group Dynamics
the tension after transfer seemed lower, indicating that the change
to the lower production level was accompanied by a decrease in the
strength of the driving forces toward higher production (Figure
31):
There are indications that the transfer in these cases is indeed
accompanied by a marked lowering of work morale in the sense of
drive to higher production. If this interpretation is correct, learning
after transfer should be slow, and indeed it is astonishingly slow
(Figure 30). Although these workers are familiar with the machines,
their speed improves so slowly that it is more profitable for the
factory to hire new workers than to change the job of experienced
workers.
Probably, several factors combine to decrease the force g after
transfer: a worker in good standing who is proud of his achievement
is thrown back into a state of low working status. This is likely to
affect his morale and eagerness. The goal of working at a level "above
standard" has been a realistic possibility before transfer; now it is
"too" high, it is out of reach. The studies on level of aspiration (12)
have shown that under these circumstances a person tends to "give
up." This would explain the decrease in After group decision
the learning curve rises, probably because the setting up of new goals
brings about a resultant force toward higher levels without which
learning may not take place.
b. Learning Curves as Base Line for Equilibria Considerations.
There are circumstances under which equilibria must be related to a
base line defined in other than absolute values. Bavelas gave special
training to a person in charge of training beginners in a factory.
This led to a considerable steepening of the learning curves of the
beginners. After a few weeks when the specially trained trainer was
withdrawn and replaced by the previously employed trainer, the
learning curve promptly returned to the level it would have had
without the training of the trainer. This and other cases make it
probable that under certain circumstances a learning curve can be
treated as the base line, that is, a line of "equal level" for determin¬
ing of force fields.
222 Field Theory in Social Science
The inclusion of the learning curve as a possible base could be
interpreted as an expression of a general principle:
(8) Social forces should be analyzed on the basis of the relation
between social processes and the ability (capacity) of the group
(or individual) concerned.
If one accepts this general principle, the treatment of “absolute”
standards of processes (height of production, of friendliness, etc.),
as the frame of reference for analyzing the forces which determine
quasi-stationary equilibria is permissible only if the capacities of the
groups concerned do not change during that period.
7. THE COMBINATION OF “SUBJECTIVE” AND “OBJECTIVE” METHODS
To determine the nature of the forces which are the main variables
in a given case a great variety of procedures can be used. An analysis
of both the cognitive (“subjective”) and behavioral (“objective”)
aspects of group life requires a combination of methods which lays
open the subjective aspects and permits conclusions concerning con¬
duct which can be checked. An example may illustrate the principle
involved.
The Division of Program Surveys of the United States Department
of Agriculture during the war carried out for the Treasury Depart¬
ment periodic studies of motivation for buying and redeeming war
bonds. Interviews indicated the nature of some of the forces toward
and away from redemption for individuals in various sections of the
population.
The force toward redemption most frequently encountered was
found to be financial pressure resulting from an actual emergency
like sickness. Forces against redemption were the need for security
which is provided by a financial reserve, patriotism, or gaining a
higher interest return if bonds are kept longer.
To relate the "subjective” data about the nature of the forces to
the curves representing equilibria, such "objective’ data as the
"capacity” of a population to redeem war bonds has to be taken into
account. Since this capacity depends upon the total amount of war
bonds outstanding, it is appropriate according to theorem (8) to base
considerations of forces on curves which represent levels of redemp¬
tion as percentages of this total.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 223
Pearl Harbor, the official entrance of the United States in the war,
was accompanied by a marked decline in the level of redemption.
From interviews with the population it appears that this was due
to an increase of a force against redemption (rather than a decrease
of the forces for redemption), namely, a heightened patriotism.
From this explanation one would expect that at the end of the war
an opposite change would occur. Indeed, Figure 32 shows an increase
Figure 32. Redemptions of Series B savings bonds as percentage of total outstanding.
of the level of redemption at that time; it can be understood in part
as the result of the diminished patriotic motive.
On the whole, redemption during the periods from April, 1943,
to September, 1944, from October, 1944, to July, 1945, and from
August, 1945, to April, 1946, seem to represent three levels of a
cjuasi-stationary process, each period showing typical periodic fluctua¬
tions. The change from the first to the second level coincides with
the establishing of an easier redemption policy by the Treasury
Department corresponding to a decrease of the restraining forces
against redemption.
224
Field Theory in Social Science
The Creation of Permanent Changes
1. CHANGE OF FORCE FIELDS
In discussing the means of bringing about a desired state of affairs
one should not think in terms of the “goal to be reached” but rather
in terms of a change “from the present level to the desired one.”
The discussion thus far implies that a planned change consists of
supplanting the force field corresponding to an equilibrium at the
beginning level by a force field having its equilibrium at the
desired level L^. It should be emphasized that the total force field
has to be changed at least in the area between and L^.
The techniques of changing a force field cannot be fully deduced
from the representation in the phase space. To change the level of
velocity of a river its bed has to be narrowed down or widened,
rectified, cleared from rocks, etc. To decide how best to bring about
such an actual change, it does not suffice to consider one property.
The total circumstances have to be examined. For changing a social
equilibrium, too, one has to consider the total social field: the groups
and subgroups involved, their relations, their value systems, etc. The
constellation of the social field as a whole has to be studied and so
reorganized that social events flow differently. The analysis by way
of phase space indicates more what type of effect has to be accom¬
plished than how this can be achieved.
2 . QUASI-STATIONARY PROCESSES AND SOCIAL “HABITS”
Influencing a population to make a change such as substituting
the consumption of dark bread for white bread means trying to break
a well-established "custom” or "social habit.” Social habits usually
are conceived of as obstacles to change. What does a social habit
mean in terms of force fields and what does "breaking of a habit
mean?
If one regards a social stationary process as determined by a quasi-
stationary equilibrium one will expect any added force to change the
level. We know that the resultant force on a present level L is zero
(f*^ ^ = o). Adding the force | | > o should move the level
in the direction of « to a different level (L + AJ- The amount o
change A is determihed by the equation
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 225
The idea of ’’social habit” seems to imply that in spite of the
application of a force n the level of the social process will change
less than A because of some type of ‘'inner resistance” to change.
To overcome this inner resistance an additional force seems to be
required, a force sufficient to "break the habit,” to "unfreeze” the
custom.
One could try to deny the existence of such "inner resistance to
change” out of social habit.® Perhaps social habits merely refer to
cases of such steep gradient that adding the force /i,, „ does not lead
to a perceivable change. Such an interpretation hardly suffices. At
best, it transforms the problem of habit into the question, why does
the resultant force field show such a steep gradient in the immediate
neighborhood of L 7
The social habit theory answers that the historic constancy creates
an "additional force field” which tends to keep up the present level
in addition to whatever other forces are keeping the social process
at that level. Two statements are implied in such a theory; one assert¬
ing the existence of the "additional force field,” the other regarding
its historical origin. We are here interested mainly in the nature of
the additional force field.
Social life proceeding on a certain level leads frequently to the
establishment of organizational institutions. They become equivalent
to "vested interests” in a certain social level. A second possible
source of social habits is related to the value system, the ethos of a
group. We shall discuss this in more detail.
3. INDIVIDUAL CONDUCT AND GROUP STANDARDS
In discussing force fields we have viewed as "point of application”
of the force either an individual or a group as a whole. Let us now
consider the relation between the individual and the level of social
processes.
An individual P may differ in his personal level of conduct (L.^)
from the level which represents group standards (LP^) by a certain
®TLe concept ’'habit*’ has played havoc with the progress of psychology for
decades. Today it can be regarded as a popular term referring to a conglomeration
of various processes. It is to be exchanged for several more adequate concepts (see
Chapter 4 ).
226 Wield Theory in Social Science
amount n ( | L"*" — U’ \ = n). Such a difference is permitted or
encouraged in different cultures to different degrees. If the individual
should try to diverge "too much" from group standards he will
find himself in increasing difficulties. He will be ridiculed, treated
severely, and finally ousted from the group. Most individuals, there*
fore, stay pretty close to the standard of the groups they belong to
or wish to belong to.
In other words: the group level is not merely a level of equilibrium
resulting from whatever forces and fz.,a the circumstances pro-
0 FORCES ON THE INOJVIO- b. FORCES ON THE GROUP c. FORCE FIELD
UAL CORRESPONOJNG STAN[»RD TOWARD A RESULTING FROM
TO THE VALENCE OF LOWER OR HIGHER SUMMATION OF
THE GROUPSTANOAROOJ LEVEL a. AND b.
Figure 33 . Force fields when the group standard does and does not have social value.
vide. Frequently this level itself acquires value. It becomes a positive
valence corresponding to a central force field with the force fp, t
keeping the individual in line with the standards of the group.
4. GROUP LEVELS WITH AND WITHOUT SOCIAL VALUE AND THE
RESISTANCE TO CHANGE
Although the value character of a group level is rather common,
it does not hold for all types of processes. For instance, few in-
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 227
dlviduals know that the level of redemption of war bonds between
April, 1943, and August, 1944, was about one per cent. The values
which entered into the decisions to redeem did not include the value
of keeping the rate of redemption neither above nor below that
level. In this respect, the situation is quite different, for instance,
from the situation of an individual who tries to keep up with a
working team.
Whatever the reason that a certain level acquires or does not
acquire value, the difference is important for the problem of change.
Let us assume that for two groups Gr and Gr^ the resultant force
field corresponds to Figure 33b if we do not take into account the
social value of L. In the case of but not in the case of Gr^ we
assume that the level L has social value for the members. This value
should correspond to the force field represented in Figure 33a. Let
us assume that a force f were applied on the individual to change
his conduct towards g. In Gr^ the amount of change will be deter¬
mined by the gradient of the counterforce f(L*n), •> in Gr by the com¬
bined counterforces fp,L (Figure 33c). This means;
(10) The greater the social value of a group standard the greater
is the resistance of the individual group member to move
away from this level.
Many cases of ’’social habit” seem to refer to group standards with
social value, and resistance to change can frequently be explained
through theorem (10) If this theory is correct certain derivations
can be made in regard to the breaking of social habits.
5. INDIVroUAL PROCEDURES AND GROUP PROCEDURES OF CHANGING
SOCIAL CONDUCT
If the resistance to change depends partly on the value of the
group standard for the individual, the resistance to change should
be diminished if one uses a procedure which diminishes the strength
of the value of the group standard or which changes the level that
is perceived by the individual as having social value.
This second point is one of the reasons for the effectiveness of
“group carried” changes (17) which approach the individuals in
face-to-face groups. Perhaps one might expect single individuals to
be more pliable than groups of like-minded individuals. However,
228 Field Theory in Social Science
experience in leadership training, in changing of food habits, work
production, criminality, alcoholism, prejudices—all seem to indicate
that it is usually easier to change individuals formed into a group
than to change any one of them separately (lo)- As long as group
values are unchanged the individual will resist changes more strongly
the further he is to depart from group standards. If the group
standard itself is changed, the resistance which is due to the relation
between individual and group standard is eliminated.
PERCENTAGE OF MOTHERS RE¬
PORTING AN INCREASE IN THE CON*
SUMPTION OF FRESH MILK
60
50
40
50
20
10
O
AFTER 4 WEEKS
AFTCR2WEEKS
GROUP LECTURE GROUP LECTURE
DECISION DECISION
Figure 34. Percentage of mothers reporting an increase in the consumption of
fresh milk after group decision and after lecture.
6. CHANGING AS THREE STEPS: UNFREEZING, MOVING, AND
FREEZING OF GROUP STANDARDS
A change toward a higher level of group performance is frequently
short lived; after a “shot in the arm,” group life soon returns to the
previous level. This indicates that it does not suffice to define the
objective of a planned change in group performance as the reaching
of a different level. Permanency of the new level, or permanency
for a desired period, should be included in the objective. A successful
change includes therefore three aspects: unfreezing (if necessary)
the present level L*, moving to the new level Z.^, and freezing group
life on the new level. Since any level is determined by a force field.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 229
permanency implies that the new force held is made relatively secure
against change.
The ''unfree2ing’* of the present level may involve quite di£^erent
problems in different cases. Allport (i) has described the “catharsis”
which seems to be necessary before prejudices can be removed. To
break open the shell of complacency and self-righteousness it is
sometimes necessary to bring about deliberately an emotional stir-up.
PERCENTAGE OF MOTHERS FOLLOWING
COMPLETELY GROUP DECISION
OR INDIVIDUAL INSTRUCTION IN
GIVING ORANGE JUICE
GROUP INDIVIDUAL GROUP INDIVIDUAL
DECISION INSTRUCTION DECISION INSTRUCTION
Figure 35. Percentage of mothers complying with group decision or individual
instruction in giving orange juice.
The same holds for the problem of freezing the new level. Some¬
times it is possible to establish an organizational setup which is
equivalent to a stable circular causal process.
7. GROUP DECISION AS A CHANGE PROCEDURE
The following example of a process of group decision concerns
housewives living in a midwestern town, some of whom were exposed
230
Field Theory in Social Science
Figure 36. The effect of group decision on sewing machine operators.
to a good lecture about the value of greater consumption of fresh
milk and some of whom were involved in a discussion leading step
by step to the decision to increase milk consumption (16). No high-
pressure salesmanship was applied; in fact, pressure was carefully
avoided. The amount of time used was equal in the two groups.
The change in milk consumption was checked after two and four
weeks. Figure 34 indicates the superiority of group decision. Similar
results were found in regard to evaporated milk.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 231
The effect of individual treatment was compared with the effect
of group decision among farm women who had come to the maternity
ward of the State Hospital of Iowa. Before their release they received
individual instruction concerning the proper formula for feeding
babies and the advisability of giving them orange juice and cod
liver oil. This procedure was compared with a procedure of dis¬
cussion and decision carried out with six mothers as a group. In the
first case the nutritionist devoted about twenty-five minutes to a
single mother, in the second the same amount of time to a group of
six mothers.
Figure 35 shows the superiority of the group decision procedure.
At four weeks every one of the mothers in the decision group was
giving to the baby the advised amount of cod liver oil. Surprisingly,
after both procedures there is an improvement between the second
and fourth weeks. Figure 36 presents an example of the effect of
three group decisions of a team in a factory reported by Bavelas (15)
which illustrates an unusually good case of permanency of change
measured over nine months.
The experiments reported here cover but a few of the necessary
variations. Although in some cases the procedure is relatively easily
executed, in others it requires skill and presupposes certain general
conditions. Managers rushing into a factory to raise production by
group decisions are likely to encounter failure. In social management
as in medicine there are no patent medicines and each case demands
careful diagnosis. The experiments with group decision are neverthe¬
less sufficiently advanced to clarify some of the general problems of
social change.
We have seen that a planned social change may be thought of as
composed of unfreezing, change of level, and freezing on the new
level. In all three respects group decision has the general advantage
of the group procedure.
If one uses individual procedures, the force field which corre¬
sponds to the dependence of the individual on a valued standard
acts as a resistance to change. If, however, one succeeds in changing
group standards, this same force field will tend to facilitate changing
the individual and will tend to stabilize the individual conduct on
the new group level.
Sometimes the value system of this face-to-face group conflicts with
the values of the larger cultural setting and it is necessary to separate
232
Field Theory in Social Science
Prefers Who(e-Whe<rt Breed
VervMuch I Much
defers WNte Breed
Very Much
After
Request
After
Group
Decision
Figure 37
Relation between own food preferences and eagerness to have group
succeed after request and after group decision.
the group from the larger setting. For instance, during retraining
of recreational leaders from autocratic to democratic patterns Bavelas
(2) was careful to safeguard them from interference by the admin¬
istration of the recreational center. The effectiveness of camps or
workshops in changing ideology or conduct depends in part on the
possibility of creating such "cultural islands” during change. The
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 233
stronger the accepted subculture of the workshop and the more
isolated it is the more will it minimize that type of resistance to
change which is based on the relation between the individual and
the standards of the larger group.
One reason why group decision facilitates change is illustrated by
Willerman (9). Figure 37 shows the degree of eagerness to have
the group change from the consumption of white bread to whole
wheat. When the change was simply requested the degree of eager¬
ness varied greatly with the degree of personal preference for whole
wheat. In case of group decision the eagerness seems to be relatively
independent of personal preference; the individual seems to act
mainly as ’’group member.”
A second factor favoring group decision has to do with the relation
between motivation and action. A lecture and particularly a discussion
may be quite effective in setting up motivations in the desired direc¬
tion. Motivation alone, however, does not suffice to lead to change.
That presupposes a link between motivation and action. This link is
provided by the decision but it usually is not provided by lectures or
even by discussions. This seems to be, at least in part, the explanation
for the otherwise paradoxical fact that a process like decision which
takes only a few minutes is able to affect conduct for many months
to come. The decision links motivation to action and, at the same
time, seems to have a "freezing” effect which is partly due to the
individual’s tendency to "stick to his decision” and partly to the
"commitment to a group.” The importance of the second factor
would be different for a students’ cooperative where the individuals
remain together, for housewives from the same block who see each
other once in a while, and for farm mothers who are not in contact
with each other. The experiments show, however, that even decisions
concerning individual achievement can be effective which are made
in a group setting of persons who do not see each other again.
It would be incorrect to attribute the permanence of the new level
entirely to the freezing effect of the decision. In many cases other
factors are probably more important. After the housewife has decided
to use more milk she might place a standing order with the milkman
which could automatically keep milk consumption high. These ques¬
tions lead to problems of reconstructurization of the social field,
particularly to problems of channeling social processes.
234 Field Theory in Social Science
Many aspects of social life can be viewed as quasi-stationary
processes. They can be regarded as states of a quasi-stationary equi¬
librium in the precise meaning of a constellation of forces the struc¬
ture of which can be well defined. These forces have to be identified
and will have to be measured quantitatively. A sufficient conceptual
analysis is a prerequisite to this step.
The scientific treatment of social forces presupposes analytical
devices which are adequate to the nature of social processes and
which are technically fitted to serve as a bridge to a mathematical
treatment. The basic means to this end is the representation of social
situations as ’'social fields.” Some aspects of social processes can be
treated by way of systems of coordinates called "phase space.”
The use of a phase space for treating a social equilibrium makes
it necessary to clarify certain technical questions of analysis, such as
the relation between the strength of the opposing forces at a given
level of the process, the structure of the force field inside and outside
of the neighboring range, the formal conditions of fluctuation and
of individual differences, the relation between forces and capacities,
and the relation between forces and tension.
This technical analysis makes it possible to formulate in a more
exact way problems of planned social changes and of resistance to
change. It permits general statements concerning some aspects of the
problem of selecting specific objectives in bringing about change,
concerning different methods of bringing about the same amount of
change, and concerning differences in the secondary effects of these
methods. A theory emerges that one of the causes of resistance to
change lies in the relation between the individual and the value of
group standards. This theory permits conclusions concerning the
resistance of certain types of social equilibria to change, the unfreez¬
ing, moving, and freezing of a level, and the effectiveness of group
procedures for changing attitudes or conduct.
The analytical tools used are equally applicable to cultural, eco¬
nomic, sociological and psychological aspects of group life. They fit a
great variety of processes such as production levels of a factory, a
work-team and an individual worker; changes of abilities of an indi¬
vidual and of capacities of a country; group standards with and with¬
out cultural value; activities of one group and the interaction between
groups, between individuals, and between individuals and groups.
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 235
The analysis concedes equal reality to all aspects of group life and to
social units of all sizes. The application depends upon the structural
properties of the process and of the total situation in which it takes
place.
Our consideration of quasi-stationary equilibrium has been based
on analytic concepts which, within the realm of social sciences, have
emerged first in psychology. The concepts of a psychological force,
of tension, of conflicts as equilibria of forces, of force fields and of
inducing fields, have slowly widened their range of application from
the realm of individual psychology into the realm of processes and
events which had been the domain of sociology and cultural anthro¬
pology. From what I have been able to learn recently about the treat¬
ment of equilibria by mathematical economics, I am convinced that
this treatment, although having a different origin and being based
perhaps on a different philosophy, is also fully compatible with our
considerations.
The ease of quantitatively measuring economic data on the one
hand, and the disturbing qualitative richness of psychological and
cultural events on the other, have tended to keep the methods of
investigating these areas separated. Perhaps this situation has driven
some mathematical economists into an attempt to develop an eco¬
nomics without people and without culture, much in the way that
some mathematically inclined psychologists have tried to develop a
theory of learning without organisms. It is possible, however, to leave
the philosophical interpretation in abeyance and to regard the equa¬
tions of mathematical economics as a treatment of certain aspects of
events which are methodologically similar to our treatment of certain
aspects of social processes by way of phase spaces; in both cases one
has to realize that for prediction it is necessary to refer finally to the
total social field with all its essential properties. If one is conscious of
the limitation of the separate analytical treatment of certain aspects of
the social field, this treatment is a useful and indeed necessary step.
Certainly, mathematical economics has developed powerful ana¬
lytical tools for treating some basic aspects of group life. If our
considerations are correct they mean that it is possible to join hands
with mathematical economics and I see no reason why, for instance,
the methods of treating economic equilibria (5, 7, 19) or the treat-
236 Field Theory in Social Science
ment of the grouping in competitive constellations (20) cannot be
applied to other areas of social life.
The analytical tools of mathematical economics should be of great
help for carrying through the task of measuring social forces, a task
which thus far has been accomplished only in a limited area of indi¬
vidual psychology (3). This task implies three steps; a sufficient
development of analytical concepts and theories concerning social
forces, their quantification in principle through equations, and
measuring concrete cases. It seems that the first step in the treatment
of group life has sufficiently progressed to permit a collaboration of
the various branches of the social sciences for the second and third
task.
For economics the fusion implies the possibility of taking into
account the cultural and psychological properties of the population
involved and, therefore, of improving greatly the ability of analyzing
concrete cases and making correct predictions. Economics will have
to be ready to complicate its analytical procedures at certain points,
particularly it will have to recognize the cognitive problems men¬
tioned above in the discussion of the three-step procedure.
The fusion of the social sciences will make accessible to economics
the vast advantages which the experimental procedure offers for
testing theories and for developing new insight. The combination of
experimental and mathematical procedures has been the main vehicle
for the integration of the study of light, of electricity, and of the
other branches of physical science. The same combination seems to
be destined to make the integration of the social sciences a reality.
REFERENCES
1. Allport, G. W.: Catharsis and the reduction of prejudice, /. Social Issues,
1945, No. 3, 3-10.
2. Bavelas, Alex: Morale and the training of leaders. In G. watson (fcd.j:
Civilian Morale (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1942).
3. Cartwright, D., and Festinger, L.: A quantitative theory of decision, Psychol.
Rev., 1943, 50, 595-621.
4. Cassirer, E.: Substance and Function (Chicago: Open Court, 1923).
5. Hicks, J. R.: Value and Capital (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1939 )-
6. Koehler, Wolfgang: The Place of Value in a World of Fact (New York:
Liveright Publishing Corporation, 1938).
7. Lange, O.: Price Flexibility and Employment (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1945 )-
Frontiers in Group Dynamics 237
8. Lewin, Kurt: The conceptual representation and the measurement of psycho*
logical forces, Contr. Psychol. Theory, 1938, i, No. 4.
9. Lewin, Kurt: Forces behind food habits and methods of change. Bull. Nat.
Res. Council, 1943, 108, 35—63.
xo. Lewin, Kurt: Resolving Social Conflicts (New York: Harper 8c Brothers,
1948, Ch. 4).
II. Lewin, K.. Lippitt, R., and White, R.: Patterns of aggressive behavior in
experimentally created "social climates," /. Social Psychol., 1939, 10, 271—299.
* 2 * Lewin, K., Dembo, T., Festinger, L., and Sears, P.: Level of aspiration. In
J. M. Hunt (Ed.): Personality and the Behavior Disorders (New York:
The Ronald Press Co., 1944).
13. Lippitt, Ronald: An experimental study of authoritarian and democratic group
atmospheres, Univ. Iowa Stud. Child Welf., 1940, 16, 45—195.
14. Lippitt, R. and White, R.: The "social climate" of children's groups. In R.
®2rkcr, J. Kounin, and H. Wright (Eds.): Child Behavior and Development
(New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1943).
15. Maier, N. R. F.; Psychology in Industry (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company,
1946),
16. Radke, M., and Klisurich, D.: Experiments in changing food habits, J. Am.
Dietet. A., 1947, aj, 403-409.
17. Redl, Fritz: Oinical group work with children. In Group Work and the
Social Scene Today (New York: Association Press, 1943).
x8. Roethusberger, F. J., and Dickson, W. J.: Management and the Worker
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1939).
19* Samublson, P. a.: The stability of equilibrium: linear and non-linear systems,
Econometrica, 1942, zo, 1—25,
20. Von Neumann, J., and Morgenstern, O.: Theory of Games and Economic
Behavior (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1944).
X
Behavior and Development as a Function
of the Total Situation
(1946)
iJTJT_nLnjTrmxirLrLr^^
I F ONE wishes to use the wealth of accumulated facts concerning
development, personality, social relations, cognition, and motiva¬
tion for the purpose of understanding, guiding, or predicting the
behavior of any given individual, these data will have to be linked in
such a way that they become applicable to a particular person at a
particular time. This chapter discusses procedures and concepts which
have been found to be instrumental for this purpose. Some of the
relevant methodological questions are considered and certain prob¬
lems of cognition, motivation, and development are treated as
examples.
Analysis, Concepts, and Theory
I. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL FIELD
Scientific procedure is analytical in that it tries to determine or to
"isolate” the effect of various factors. It studies, for instance, the
effect on the child of different intensities of light, of different degrees
of hunger, of failure or praise. It is widely agreed, however, that the
effect of a given stimulus depends upon the stimulus constellation
and upon the state of the particular person at that time. The perceived
form, size, and color of a visual object corresponding to the same
retinal stimulus vary widely according to the visual background and
the nature of the rest of the visual field (4^)- The toys and other
objects in a room may lead to very different reactions of the one-
238
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 239
year-old child when the mother is present and when she is not (6).
In general terms, behavior (B) is a function (F) of the person (P)
and of his environment (B)y B = F (P, E). This statement is cor¬
rect for emotional outbreaks as well as for ''purposive” directed ac¬
tivities; for dreaming, wishing, and thinking, as well as for talking
and acting.
In this formula for behavior, the state of the person (P) and that
of his environment (E) are not independent of each other. How a
child sees a given physical setting (for instance, whether the frozen
pond looks dangerous to him or not) depends upon the develop¬
mental state and the character of that child and upon his ideology.
The worlds in which the newborn, the one-year-old child, and the
ten-year-old child live are different even in identical physical or social
surroundings. This holds also for the same child when it is hungry
or satiated, full of energy or fatigued. In other words, E — F (P).
The reverse is also true: The state of the person depends upon his
environment, P = F (E). The state of the person after encourage¬
ment is different from that after discouragement (34), that in an
area of sympathy or security from that in an area of tension (95 ), that
in a democratic group atmosphere from that in an autocratic atmos¬
phere (82). The momentary intellectual ability of a child as measured
by an intelligence test (MA) is different in an atmosphere of good
rapport with the examiner from what it is in one of poor rapport. In
regard to the effect of the environment upon development, there is
a consensus that environment may change intelligence, although
opinion differs in regard to how much intelligence can be changed
by environment (21, 50, 118, 119, 128). Certainly the ideology,
values, and attitudes of the growing individual depend greatly upon
the culture in which he is reared (38, 92) and upon his belonging to
a privileged or underprivileged group (27, 80).
In summary, one can say that behavior and development^ depend
upon the state of the person and his environment, = F (P, E). In
this equation the person (P) and his environment (E) have to be
viewed as variables which are mutually dependent upon each other.
In other words, to understand or to predict behavior, the person and
^ The possibility of treating the factors determining development formally in the
same way as the factors determining behavior simplifies psychological theory con¬
siderably. I owe this idea to Donald K. Adams.
240 Field Theory in Social Science
his environment have to be considered as one constellation of inter¬
dependent factors. We call the totality of these factors the life space
(^p) of that individual, and write B = F (P, E) = F (ISp). The
life space, therefore, includes both the person and his psychological
environment. The task of explaining behavior then becomes identical
with (i) finding a scientific representation of the life space (LSp)
and (2) determining the function (F) which links the behavior to
the life space. This function (F) is what one usually calls a law.
The novelist who tells the story behind the behavior and develop¬
ment of an individual gives us detailed data about his parents, his
siblings, his character, his intelligence, his occupation, his friends,
his status. He gives us these data in their specific interrelation, that is,
as part of a total situation. Psychology has to fulfill the same task
with scientific instead of poetic means. The method should be ana¬
lytical in that the different factors which influence behavior have to
be specifically distinguished. In science, these data have also to be
represented in their particular setting within the specific situation. A
totality of coexisting facts which are conceived of as mutually inter¬
dependent is called a field (31). Psychology has to view the life space,
including the person and his environment, as one field.
What means are most appropriate for analyzing and representing
scientifically a psychological field have to be judged on the basis of
their fruitfulness for explaining behavior. In this respect, the follow¬
ing general points should be remembered:
I. A prerequisite for properly guiding a child or for the theoretical
understanding of his behavior is the distinction between that situa¬
tion which the teacher, the parents, or the experimenter sees and that
situation which exists for the child as his life space. Ob]ect'tvity in
psychology demands representing the field correctly as it exists for
the individual in question at that particular time. For this field the
child’s friendships, conscious and “unconscious’* goals, dreams, ideals,
and fears are at least as essential as any physical setting. Since this
field is different for every age and for every individual, the situation
as characterized by physics or sociology, which is the same for every¬
body, cannot be substituted for it. It is important, however, to know
the physical and social conditions because they limit the variety of
possible life spaces—probably as boundary conditions (see Chapters
3 and 8) of the psychological field.
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 241
2. The social aspect of the psychological situation is at least as
important as the physical. This holds even for the very young child.
3. To characterize properly the psychological field, one has to take
into account such specific items as particular goals, stimuli, needs,
social relations, as well as such more general characteristics of the
field as the atmosphere (for instance, the friendly, tense, or hostile
atmosphere) or the amount of freedom. These characteristics of the
field as a whole are as important in psychology as, for instance, the
field of gravity for the explanation of events in classical physics.
Psychological atmospheres are empirical realities and are scientifically
describable facts (82).
4. The concept of the psychological field as a determinant of be¬
havior implies that everything which affects behavior at a given time
should be represented in the field existing at that time, and that only
those facts can affect behavior which are part of the present field
(see Chapter 3).
5. To avoid unnecessary assumptions, one can represent the psy¬
chological field scientifically by the interrelation of its parts in
mathematical terms without asking what the "essence behind" this
field is. Such a mathematical representation of the psychological field
and the equations expressing the psychological laws are all that have
to be known for predicting behavior.
II. THEORIES AND CONSTRUCTS: LAW AND THE INDIVIDUAL CASE
Without theories it is impossible in psychology, as in any other
science, to proceed beyond the mere collection and description of
facts which have no predictive value. It is impossible to handle prob¬
lems of conditions or effects without characterizing the dynamic
properties behind the surface of the directly observable phenotypical
properties.
The terms need, association, conditioned reflex, excitatory tend-
gestalt, libido, and super-ego are examples of theoretical con¬
structs with which various psychological schools have attempted to
characterize certain underlying dynamic or genotypical facts. It is
important to distinguish those facts which are essential for prediction
and explanation from their various symptoms. For instance, an emo¬
tional state such as anger can lead to a variety of such very different
symptoms as noisiness and extreme politeness (25); tension can
242 Field Theory in Social Science
lead to aggressiveness as well as apathy (82). The same personality
may manifest itself in practically opposite actions. In other words, a
given state of a person corresponds to a variety of behavior and can,
therefore, be inferred only from a combined determination of overt
behavior and the situation. This is another way of saying that be¬
havior (B) is determined by the person and the environment
(B ~F (P,B) ) and not by the person or the environment alone.
Psychology has never avoided, nor can it avoid, theory (16, 59, 79,
101, 123), but it can try to eliminate those speculative theories which
are frequently introduced without clear intent or in a hidden way,
and try instead to make use of openly stated empirical theories. The
main desiderata for an efficient empirical theory are: (i) constructs
which (a) are linked to observable facts (symptoms) by a so-called
operational definition or by a number of operational definitions cor¬
responding to the possibilities of observation under different circum¬
stances; and which (b) have clearly defined conceptual properties.
These properties are coordinated to certain mathematical (logical)
concepts. Such a coordination is a prerequisite for logically strict
derivations. (2) The laws (that is the relation between behavior, on
the one hand, and the field characterized by certain constructs, on
the other, or between various factors determining the field) should
be verified by experiment. A law should be accepted as valid only if
it is not contradicted by data in any branch of psychology. In this
sense, a law should always be general.
The problems of general laws and of individual differences fre¬
quently appear to be unrelated questions which follow somewhat
opposite lines. Any prediction, however, presupposes a consideration
of both types of questions.
To give just one example of the linkage between the study of
general laws and of individual differences: The velocity with which
an activity is satiated increases, according to Karsten (68), with the
degree to which the activity is psychologically central (as against
peripheral). This proposition has the nature of a general law. If
correct, it would explain why both agreeable and disagreeable ac¬
tivities are more quickly satiated than relatively neutral ones, and
why fashions in women's clothes change faster than in men's clothes.
By means of this law one can account for variations in the speed of
satiation exhibited by the same person in different states. Certain
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 243
activities, for example, are more central during menstruum than dur¬
ing intermenstruum and, in accordance with the general law, these
activities are satiated more quickly during menstruum. When applied
to age differences the law would explain why the velocity of satiation
of certain activities is slower in older than in younger children.
Finally, it would explain why certain types of problem children
who are oversensitive reach the satiation point more quickly than the
average child of that age.
This example may show that problems of individual differences,
of age levels, of personality, of specific situations, and of general laws
are closely interwoven. A law is expressed in an equation which
relates certain variables. Individual differences have to be conceived
of as various specific values which these variables have in a particular
case. In other words, general laws and individual differences are
merely two aspects of one problem; they are mutually dependent on
each other and the study of the one cannot proceed without the study
of the other. This implies that the data about the various age levels
provided by child psychology have practical value for the understand¬
ing and guiding of individual children only if these data are linked
with the concrete situation which is dominating the behavior of a
given child at a given time.
This example concerning psychological satiation illustrates also
that laws should, and usually can, be applied to all parts of psychol-
ogy* One of the main functions of theories and constructs is to bind
together all the various fields of psychology which otherwise would
tend to fall apart into a number of unconnected disciplines.
III. MICROSCOPIC AND MACROSCOPIC UNITS IN PSYCHOLOGY
A problem where prejudices have greatly hampered progress of
research is the treatment of units of different sizes. In child psychol¬
ogy we want to know the development of, and conditions for, the
movement of the various fingers in the act of grasping (54) or the
movement of the tongue (48), as well as the effect of the home
background upon the school work of a child, or the effect of his
childhood relations with his parents on his behavior as an adult.
Child psychology is concerned with questions regarding time units
of a fraction of a second (-reaction of the eyelid, eye movements in
244 Field Theory in Social Science
the act of reading") and with time units of many years (problems of
life history, 3, 20, 26).
For instance, the investigation of stuttering involves the study of
the position of a sound or syllable in a word (18), of a word in a
sentence (17, 19); it involves the study of the importance of the
sentence in the text of the paragraph {64) ; the relation of this verbal
expression to the immediate social situation—speaking alone or to a
small or large audience (7, 100); the effect of the family's classifica¬
tion of the child as a stutterer (53); the individual’s position in his
family—for instance, his position in the rank order of siblings (104);
his position within the population at large (124); and the general
atmosphere of his life space. In other words it is necessary to in¬
vestigate units of action of widely different sizes and situations of
widely different scope, such as the "immediate situation” and the
"situation at large.”
It is possible to obtain objective and reliable observations in regard
to units of any size if one uses methods fitted to the various types
(9» ^3)- The attempt to determine reliably large macroscopic units
by observing microscopic units, however, is bound to fail (120) in
psychology as in other sciences. It is technically impossible to de¬
scribe the movement of the sun by describing the movement of every
ion contained in it.
The Behavior in a Given Psychological Field
I. cognitive structure of the life space
D/fferenfrat/on of the Various Dimensions of the Life Space. An
outstanding characteristic of the change of the life space during de¬
velopment is an increasing differentiation. The importance of this
factor has been shown in regard to the development of language
(49), knowledge (122), social interrelations (95), emotions (63)>
and actions (34) •
The life space of the newborn child may be described as a field
which has relatively few and only vaguely distinguishable areas (74)'
The situation probably corresponds to a general state of greater or
less comfort. No definite objects or persons seem to be distinguished.
No area called "my own body” exists. Future events or expectations
do not exist; the child is ruled by the situation immediately at hand.
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 245
Some of the first areas which get a definite character seem to be
connected with food and elimination. After as short a period as three
to six days the child reacts to being prepared for nursing (88). A
similar increase in size and differentiation of the life space occurs in
other respects. The child studies his own body (20) and his imme¬
diate physical surroundings. Within the first few months, certain
social relations develop.
The increase of the life space in regard to the psychological time
dimensions continues into adulthood. Plans extend farther into the
future and activities of increasingly longer duration are organized as
one unit. For instance, between two and six years of age the dura¬
tion of play units increases (9).
The differentiation of the life space also increases in the dimen¬
sion of reality-irreality. The different degrees of irreality correspond
to different degrees of fantasy. They include both the positive wishes
and the fears. Dynamically, the level of irreality corresponds to a
more fluid medium (15, 32) and is more closely related to the cen¬
tral layers of the person. This fact is particularly important for the
psychology of dreams (42, 43). Play can be understood as an action
on the level of reality closely related to the irreal level (116). The
play technique (56), in the study of personality, makes use of the
fact that the irreal level is closely related to the central layers of the
person.
The level of irreality in the psychological future corresponds to the
wishes or fears for the future; the level of reality, to what is ex¬
pected. The discrepancy between the structure of the life space on
the levels of irreality and reality is important for planning and for
the productivity of the child (9). Hope corresponds to a sufficient
similarity between reality and irreality somewhere in the psychological
future; guilt to a certain discrepancy between reality and irreality in
the psychological past. In the young child, truth and lying, percep¬
tion and imagination are less distinguished than in an older child
(39> 99. ti6). This is partly due to the fact that the younger child
has not yet developed that degree of differentiation of the life space
into levels of reality and irreality which is characteristic of the adult.
The speed with which the life space increases in scope and degree
of differentiation during development varies greatly. A close relation
seems to exist between intelligence or, more specifically, between
246 Field Theory in Social Science
mental age and the degree of differentiation of the person and the
psychological environment (76, 77). If this is correct, differences
in IQ should be considered as different rates of increasing differen¬
tiation of the life space. Similar considerations apply to motor de¬
velopment (91) and to social development.
Figure 38a and b represents schematically the scope and degree
of differentiation of the life space as a whole at two developmental
ps.past
ps. present
ps. future
more dst.
more dist.
ps. past
neor
near
ps. present
ps future
Figure 38. The life space at two developmental stages. The upper drawing
represents the life space of a younger child. The lower diagram represents the
higher degree of differentiation of the life space of the older child in regard to the
present situation, the reality-irreality dimension, and the time perspective. C, child;
R, level of reality; /, level of irreality; Ps Past, psychological past; Ps Present,
psychological present; Ps Future, psychological future.
stages. The differentiation concerns the psychological environment as
well as the person. The increasing differentiation of needs, for in¬
stance, can be represented as an increase in the differentiation of cer¬
tain intrapersonal regions. The main differences between these de¬
velopmental stages are; (i) an increase in the scope of the life space
in regard to (a) what is part of the psychological present; (b) the
time perspective in the direction of the psychological past and the
psychological future; (c) the reality-irreality dimension; (2) an in-
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 247
creasing diferentiation of every level of the life space into a multi¬
tude of social relations and areas of activities; (3) an increasing
organization; (4) a change in the general fluidity or rigidity of the
life space.
Not all the areas of this life space are accessible to the child. He
sees older children engaged in certain activities, which he would like
to do himself, but into which he £nds he cannot enter because he is
\Q.S z u
S S
g I
44.0 ***
o
<
o z
60.5- S W
POTCNcy or Bachqhouno of Frustration
Figurb 39. Decrease in constructiveness with a background of various
degrees of frustration.*
not Strong or clever enough. Additional limitations of his space of
free movement are established by the prohibitions of the adult or by
other social taboos.
The relation between accessible and inaccessible regions in the
life space, the size of the space of free movement, and the precision
of boundary between accessible and inaccessible areas are of great
importance for behavior and development of the normal and abnor¬
mal child {78).
*pata presented in this Figure derive from the study by Barker. Dembo and
Lcwin (9).
248 Field Theory in Social Science
Regression. A change of the life space as a whole in the direction
opposite to that characteristic of development may be called regres’
sion (see Chapter 5). Regression may include a decrease in time per¬
spective, dedifferentiation or disorgani2ation, leading to behavior
more or less typical for children on a younger age level.
Regression may be either permanent or temporary. It is a common
phenomenon and may be due, for instance, to sickness (63), frustra¬
tion (9), insecurity (95), or emotional tension (25, 63). Regres¬
sion, in the sense of a narrowing-down of the psychologically present
area, may result from emotional tension, for instance, if the child is
too eager to overcome an obstacle (75).
Regression may occur not only as a result of such frustration in the
immediate situation but also as the result of a background of frus¬
tration. Barker, Dembo, and Lewin (9) have shown that the con¬
structiveness of play of a five-and-one-half-year-old child may regress
to the level of a three-and-one-half-year-old child as a result of a
background of frustration. This is due to the fact that constructive¬
ness of play is closely related to time perspective, the degree of dif¬
ferentiation, within an organized unit of play, and the functional
relation between irreality and reality. The amount of regression in¬
creases with the potency of the background of frustration (Figure 39).
n. THE POSITION OF THE PERSON:
BEING INSIDE AND OUTSIDE A REGION
Position, Neighboringness, and Locomotion. The determination of
the position of the person within the life space is the first prerequisite
for understanding behavior. His social position within or outside of
various groups should be known; his position in regard to various
activities, in regard to his goal regions, and in regard to physical
areas should be determined. This is fundamental because the region
in which the person is located determines (i) the quality of his im¬
mediate surroundings, (2) what kinds of regions are adjacent to the
present region—that is, what possibilities the individual has for his
next step—and (3) what step has the meaning of an action toward
his goal and what step corresponds to an action away from his goal.
Most behavior can be conceived of as a change of position—in
other words, as a locomotion of the person. (The other cases of be¬
havior are changes of structure.) In turn, every behavior changes
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 249
the situation. We shall mention only a few examples of the effect of
the region in which the person is located.
'^Adaptation** to a Situation. A common phenomenon is what is
usually called adaptation in the sense of “getting tuned to the present
atmosphere.” H. Anderson (5) found that children of preschool
age reacted to an aggressive approach with aggression, to a friendly
approach in a friendly manner. Lippitt’s (83) study on democratic
and autocratic atmospheres found similar adaptation of the children
to the cultural atmosphere produced by the leader. French (41)
found adaptation to group atmospheres in experiments with college
freshmen. There are many indications from case studies that the
tenseness of the mother easily affects the emotional state of the young
child. There are indications that this occurs even during the first
few months of life. It is a common observation that children who are
learning bladder control may resume bed-wetting if exposed to the
sound of running water.
The adaptation to the present region is frequently employed to
make a child do something “against his will.” A child of a few
weeks may be induced to drink at the breast when he does not like
to by keeping hjs head pressed to the breast in the position of feed-
ing. Waring, Dwyer, and Junkin (126) describe how the child and
the adult both commonly use this technique for their own purposes
when they differ about the desirability of eating a certain food. The
child tries to avoid the pressure of the adult by leaving the eating-
situation (for instance, by going to the toilet) or by making the adult
leave the eating situation psychologically (for instance, by starting
conversations about noneating topics) On the other hand, the adult
frequently uses one of two methods of coercion. He may lower the
potency of the eating-situation (see later), and thus the resistance of
the child, by "distrarting his attention” from the eating (that is, by
making the child enter a psychologically different region) and then
slip in the food. Or he may heighten the potency of the eating-situa¬
tion of his own pressure, and in this way induce the child to eat. In
the latter case he frequently uses the “step-bystep method”; having
the child sit at the table, then putting the food on the spoon and
so on. ^
J. D. Frank (37) has found, in an experiment with college stu¬
dents, that the step-by-step method is more efficient in coercing the
250 Field Theory in Social Science
person to eat than the attempt to make him go the whole way at one
step. The effectiveness of the step-by-step method seems to be based
on the gradual acceptance of the situation in which the person finds
himself so that he resists less the making of the next step. A similar
method is frequently used in domestic and international politics.
People who are ready to fight against being pushed into a situation
may accept the fait accompli.
Group Belongingness. Most social goals can be characterized as a
wish to belong or not to belong to a certain group. This group may
Figure 40. Subgtouping and potency of the group as a whole in (a) an auto¬
cratic and (b) a democratic setting.^
be a group of friends, an athletic organization, or a favorite sub¬
group within a larger group. It may be a group of only two persons,
as with the friendship between mother and child. Belonging or not
belonging to the group is equivalent to having a position inside or
outside this group. This position determines the rights and duties of
the individual and is decisive for the ideology of the individual.
The feeling of belonging to certain groups is a crucial factor for
the feeling of security in children of minorities (27, 80). The
tendency to enter a certain group and to keep certain children in and
other children out of that group plays a great role in the behavior of
3 This representation is derived from the theoretical analysis presented by
Lippitt (83).
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 251
the nursery school child (85, 95). This tendency is important for
the children’s gang (113). Juveniles in the reformatory who have
not fully accepted their belonging to the criminals have a tendency
to name as their best friends persons outside the reformatory (73).
Lippitt (83) found that the feeling of group belongingness (as
expressed, for instance, by the use of the term ’’we” instead of "I”)
is stronger in democratic than in autocratic clubs. In the autocratic
situation (Figure 40) two distinct social strata exist, a higher one
containing the leader (L) and the lower containing the children (C).
(The social distance between these strata is indicated in Figure 40a
by the heavy black circle.) In democracy the status differences are
less marked (dotted line). In the autocratic setting distinct sub¬
groups of two exist containing one child and the leader. Therefore,
if the leader is taken away, no strong bond between the members re¬
mains. In democracy the subgrouping is varying and less rigid. The
potency of the group as a whole (GrP) is higher there than in the
autocratic setting where the potency of the individual goal (IP) and
of the subgroup (SuP) is relatively higher. These differences between
the autocratic and democratic situations provide some of the reasons
why children in the autocratic groups are more likely to be aggressive
against their fellows although submissive to the leader. M. E.
Wright (134) found that friendship between two children increases
in certain situations of frustration partly because these situations favor
a group structure in which the children see themselves opposed to
the adult. Bavelas (ii) found that the degree of cooperation be¬
tween children in a day camp increased after their adult leaders were
retrained from autocratic to democratic leadership techniques.
The difference between being inside and outside a region is basic
not only for social groups but for all goal-seeking activities, and for
the problem of frustration. Seeking a certain goal is equivalent to a
tendency to enter a region outside of which one is located. We shall
take up this question when discussing psychological forces.
HI. CHANGE IN COGNITIVE STRUCTURE
The structure of the life space is the positional relations of its
parts. Structure may be expressed by the topology of the life space.
Locomotion of the person, that is. the change of his position from
one region to another region, can be viewed as one type of change
252
Field Theory in Social Science
Figure 41. A simple detour
problem as seen by a young child.
Figure 42. The detour problem
represented io Figure 41 as seen
by the older child.
in structure. Other examples are those changes which occur during
"insight” or learning. The infinite variety of changes in structure
may be classified roughly into (i) an increase in differentiation of
a region, that is, an increase in the number of subregions; (2) a com¬
bination of separated regions into one differentiated region; (3) a
decrease in differentiation, that is, a decrease in the number of sub-
regions within a region; (4) a breaking-up of a whole, that is, pre¬
viously connected subparts of a region are separated into relatively
independent regions; and (5) a restructuring, that is, a change in
pattern without increase or decrease of differentiation.
Detour Problems and Insight. Restructuring of certain areas of the
life space can be readily observed in the solution of detour problems.
The basic questions can be illustrated by a simple example; A goal G
(Figure 41) lies behind a U-shaped physical barrier B. The child C,
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 253
of a mental age of one year (this may be a chronologically young
child) or an older feeble-minded child) is likely to try to reach the
goal by an action toward the barrier along the path wa.. A child
of five years, under the same circumstances, will have no difficulty.
It will reach the goal by way of a roundabout route along the path
u/'a.o (Figure 42). What are the difficulties of the younger child?
Both children have the tendency to locomote from their present situa¬
tion A toward the goal G. (As we shall see later, we can say there
exists a psychological force fA. o acting on the child in the direction
from A toward G.)
We can understand the difference in difficulties if we consider
what "direction toward G” means for both children. For the young
child the direction from A to G, dA, a. is equal to the direction toward
the barrier B, (dA. o = dA. b^* A movement from A to D along the
path Wa. d would have, for this child, the meaning of going away
from G. In other words, the direction toward Z>, dA. d. is opposite to
the direction toward G, dA.o (dA, d = dA. o)- For the older child
(Figure 42) the direction toward D, dA.D has not the character of
being opposite to the direction but of being equal to the direction
to G (dA. D — dA. o) because the step from to £) is seen by this
child as a part of the roundabout route w' a, q toward G. The differ¬
ence in the meaning of the direction dA. a toward G is due mainly
to two facts:
I. For the younger child the immediate situation is less extended
than for the older one (this is but one result of the fact that the
life space of the younger child is smaller in many aspects than that
of the older child). It includes only the regions A, B, and G (Fig¬
ure 41). For the older child, a wider area is psychologically present,
including, for instance, the areas D and F. As an effect of this dif¬
ference in scope of the present situation, the younger child sees the
areas A and G separated by the impassable barrier B. For the older
child, regions A and G are connected by way of passable regions
D and F.
Directions in the psychological life space are defined by certain
paths as a whole. The older child sees the step from to O as a
part of the path. A, D, F, G toward G. The young child sees the
A fuller discussion of the problems of direction and path in psycholoey may
be found in Lewin (79).
254 Field Theory in Social Science
step A, Df 2 ls 3 l part of the path A, E, that is, away from G. The
difference in the cognitive structure of the situation for the young
and older child leads, therefore, to a different meaning of the direc¬
tion toward G, and, accordingly, to a different locomotion resulting
from the same tendencies of both children to reach G.
2. For the young child, the path q simply does not exist
psychologically. For the older child two paths toward G exist psy¬
chologically, namely the roundabout route tv' a. a and the blocked
''direct” path Wa, o. The "direct” direction toward G can be inter¬
preted, in this case, as the direction of looking toward G\ the less
"direct” direction as that of walking toward G. For the young child,
"direction toward Cr” has not yet been differentiated into these two
directions. (This is an example of the lesser degree of differentiation
of the life space of the younger child.)
A two-year-old child placed in the same situation may at first have
a cognitive structure corresponding to that of the younger child
(Figure 41). After a few attempts the structure of the situation may
change to that of the older child (Figure 42). These changes fre¬
quently occur as a sudden shift. They are an example of what has
been called insight (75).
Insight can always be viewed as a change in the cognitive structure
of the situation. It frequently includes differentiation and restructur¬
ing in the sense of separating certain regions which have been con¬
nected and connecting regions which have been separated. For in¬
stance, to use a branch of a tree as a stick (75) for reaching a goal
behind a fence it is necessary to see the branch as a relatively separate
unit instead of a part within the larger unit of the tree. In addition,
it is necessary to connect this branch with the goal behind the fence.
From the theory of insight in detour problems certain conclusions
in regard to factors facilitating insight can be derived. Becoming
emotional leads frequently to a narrowing-down of the psycholog¬
ically existing area. A state of strong emotionality should, therefore,
be detrimental to finding solutions. A distance sufficient to permit a
survey of the larger situation helps in the solution of intellectual
problems. Katona (69) discusses the effect of various settings upon
the change of the cognitive structure and the ability to find new solu¬
tions.
The principles of change in cognitive structure discussed here are
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 255
as applicable to social and mathematical problems as to physical
problems.
Learning and Orientation. Learning is a popular term referring
to such different processes as learning to like spinach, learning to
walk, and learning French vocabularies, that is, problems of changes
of goals or needs, changes of posture and muscular coordination, and
changes in knowledge. Therefore, no one theory of learning is pos¬
sible. Problems of change in goals will be discussed later. Insight is
an example of learning in the sense of change in cognitive structure.
Learning, in this sense, usually involves several of those types of struc¬
tural changes which we have mentioned previously, combined with
a change in the degree of organization.
A change in the direction of greater differentiation takes place,
for instance, when a child gets oriented in a new surrounding. Being
in an unknown surrounding is equivalent to being in a region which
is unstructured in the double sense that neither the quality nor the
subparts of the present region, nor the immediately neighboring re¬
gions, are determined. Orientation means the structurization of the
unstructured region. In this way, direction within the life space be¬
comes determined (79). Orientation is a process which, on a smaller
scale, shows significant parallels to the development of the life space
of the young child.
An unstructured region usually has the same effect as an impassable
obstacle. Being in unstructured surroundings leads to uncertainty of
behavior because it is not clear whether a certain action will lead to
or away from the goal. It is undetermined whether the neighboring
regions are dangerous or friendly. Waring, Dwyer, and Junkin (126)
found that children during the meals of the first nursery school day
were more ready to acquiesce to the advice of the adult than later on
when they felt themselves to be on better-known ground for re¬
sisting.
To conclude this section, we shall add but one remark about the
relation between repetition and learning. Repetition of a certain ac¬
tivity may lead to differentiation of previously undifferentiated re¬
gion of the life space, and to unification of previously separated
activities. This is frequently the case in motor learning. However, if
continued long enough, repetition may have the opposite effect,
namely, a breaking-up of the larger units of actions, a dedifferentia-
256 Field Theory in Social Science
tion, unlearning, and disorganization similar to that of primitivation
or degeneration. These processes are typical of psychological satiation
and oversatiation.
IV. FORCE AND FORCE FIELD
A. Force and Valence. The structure of the life space determines
what locomotions are possible at a given time. What change actually
occurs depends on the constellation of psychological forces. The con¬
struct force characterizes, for a given point of the life space, the di¬
rection and strength of the tendency to change. This construct does
not imply any additional assumptions as to the ‘'cause” of this ten¬
dency. The combination of a number of forces acting at the same
point at a given time is called the resultant force. The relation be-
Figurb 4J. a positive central field of forces corresponding to a positive valence.
tween force and behavior can then be summed up in the following
way: Whenever a resultant force (different from zero) exists, there
is either a locomotion in the direction of that force or a change in cog¬
nitive structure equivalent to this locomotion. The reverse also holds:
whenever a locomotion or change of structure exists, resultant forces
exist in that direction.®
Psychological forces correspond to a relation between at least two
regions of the life space. A simple example is the force of fA. o act¬
ing on a child C in the direction toward a goal C (Figure 43). This
force depends upon the state of the child C, particularly upon the
state of his needs, and upon the nature of the region G. If the re¬
gion G (which may represent an activity, a social position, an object,
«We are not discussing here the complicated problems of the alien factors, that
is those physical and social factors which may be viewed as the boundary conditions
of the life space (See Chapters 3 and 8). We keep within the realm of psychology.
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 257
or any other possible goal) is attractive to the person^ it is said to
have a positive valence.
Such a valence corresponds to a field of forces which has the
structure of i positive central field (Figure 43). If no other valences
existed, the person located in any region A, B, D, E . . . would al¬
ways try to move in the direction toward G. In other words, the
valence G corresponds to a force fA. o. fa, a, fo, a. etc. The obser/a-
tion of behavior permits not only the determination of conscious
goals but also of "unconscious goals," as Freud uses the term.
If the person is repulsed, we speak of a negative valence of C,
corresponding to a negative central field (Figure 44), which is com¬
posed of forces fA.^o. fa,•a, fD,~o, etc., away from G.
Figure 44 . A negative central field of forces corresponding to a negative valence.
The effect of forces may be observed from earliest infancy: move¬
ments toward or away from the breast during feeding are noted in
the first weeks of life. Looking toward an object (fixation) is an¬
other example of directed action. Later on, there is grasping. More
elaborate directed actions presuppose a correspondingly higher dif¬
ferentiation of the life space. In a young child a force is more likely
to affect directly every part of the child than it is at a later age. For
instance, the child of six months reaching out for a toy may move
both arms and legs in this direction. He may open his mouth and
bend his head toward the goal. The older, more differentiated child
is likely to react in a more "controlled" way with only a part of
the body.
Strength of Force and Distance of Valence. We shall discuss later
what factors determine a change of valence. First let us ask what
effect a given valence, or distribution of valences, has on behavior.
238 Field Theory in Social Science
The strength of the force toward or away from a valence depends
upon the strength of that valence and the psychological distance
(^A.a) between the person and the valence (fA,o = P[ya(G),eA.a'])-
Fajans (34) found that the persistence of children (ages one to
six years) in trying to reach a goal from various physical distances
(8 to 100 cm.) increases with decreasing distance. This may mean
that, with increasing distance, either the force decreases or the child
sees more quickly that the barrier is insurmountable. If the first fac¬
tor is dominant, emotional tension should decrease with distance,
Fajans found this to be true only for the infants. For the older chil¬
dren, the second factor seems to be dominant, probably because these
children view the obstacle as dependent upon the will of the experi¬
menter rather than as physical distance.
In some experiments with rats, the velocity of running toward a
goal was found to increase v/ith decreasing distance (60). H. F.
Wright (133) found no consistent indication of such a speed gra¬
dient in experiments where nursery school children pulled the goal
(a marble) toward themselves. This indicates that the relation be¬
tween strength of force and bodily locomotion is rather complicated
in psychology and that physical and psychological distance may be
related quite diflferently under diflFerent circumstances.
As a particular example, the situation may be mentioned where
the person "nearly” reaches a goal. In animals (60), as in chil¬
dren (133), a marked slowing-down has been observed at the last
section before the goal is reached. If the force were related simply
to the physical distance, there should be no sudden drop in velocity
at this point. Obviously, after the individual is inside the goal re¬
gion, the force /x. o can no longer have the direction "toward” the
goal region but changes to a force fa. o. which properly has to be
interpreted as a tendency to resist being forced out of the goal re¬
gion (for details see 79). Being in the goal region is frequently not
equivalent to consumption of, or to bodily contact with, the goal,
but it is equivalent to having the goal in one’s power, to being sure
of it. This is probably the reason for the slowing-down in the last
section before the goal. This also explains the frequent "decrease of
interest” after possession, illustrated by the following example. A
nine-month-old child reaches out for two rattles lying before him.
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 259
When he gets one he does not begin to play but is interested only in
the rattle he does not have.
An example of a decrease of the strength of a force with the dis¬
tance from the negative valence can be found in certain eating situa¬
tions (79, p. 117). For a child who dislikes his spinach, the act of
eating might consist of a series of relatively separate steps, such as
putting the hand on the table, taking the spoon, putting food on the
spoon, etc. The strength of the force away from eating the disagree¬
able food and, therefore, the resistance against making the next step
increases with the nearness of the step to the actual eating. After the
child starts chewing, the structure of the situation in regard to this
bite usually is fundamentally changed. Instead of resisting, the child
tries to finish the bite. This is an example of how the direction and
strength of the forces acting on the person depend upon the region
in which the person is located.
The change of the strength of the force with the distance to the
valence is different for positive and for negative valences. The latter
usually diminishes much faster. The amount of decrease depends also
upon the nature of the region which has a positive or negative va¬
lence. It is different, for example, in the case of a dangerous animal
which can move about from that in the case of an immovable un¬
pleasant object.
The effect of temporal distance on the strength of the force seems
to parallel that of physical distance in some respects. E. Katz (71),
in experiments with nursery school children, found that the fre¬
quency of resumption of interrupted tasks increases with the near¬
ness of the interruption to the completion of the task, but that it
drops for interruptions very close to the end. Institutionalized ado¬
lescents, like other prisoners, may attempt to escape shortly before
they are eligible for release. Frequently they become rebellious (35).
Their emotional tension is heightened by the temporal nearness of
the goal.
B. Type of Forces. Driving and Restraining Forces. The forces
toward a positive, or away from a negative, valence can be called
driving forces. They lead to locomotion. These locomotions might
be hindered by physical or social obstacles. Such barriers correspond
to restraining forces (79). Restraining forces, as such, do not lead
to locomotion, but they do influence the effect of driving forces.
26 o Field Theory in Social Science
The restraining forces, just as the driving forces, are due to a re¬
lation between two regions of the life space, namely, the nature of
the barrier region and the "ability” of the individual. The same
social or physical obstacle corresponds, therefore, to different re¬
straining forces for different individuals.
Induced Forces, Forces Corresponding to Own Needs, and Imper¬
sonal Forces. Forces may correspond to a person’s own needs. For
instance, the child may wish to go to a movie or to eat certain food.
Many psychological forces acting on a child do not, however, cor¬
respond to his own wishes but to the wish of another person, for in¬
stance of the mother. These forces in the life space of the child can
be called induced forces, and the corresponding positive or negative
valence "induced valence.” (A force acting on the child in the direc¬
tion to the goal G induced by the mother M may be written i“fa, o-)
There are forces which psychologically correspond neither to the
own wish of the child nor the wish of another person, but have, for
the child, the character of something "impersonal,” a matter-of-fact
demand. We call them impersonal forces. It is of great importance
for the reaction of the child and for the atmosphere of the situation
whether an impersonal request or the personal will of another indi¬
vidual is dominant.
Point of Application. Forces may act on any part of the life space.
Frequently the point of application is that region of the life space
which corresponds to the own person. The child may, however, ex¬
perience that the "doll wants to go to bed,” or that "another child
wants a certain toy.” In these cases the points of application of the
forces are regions in the life space of a child other than his own
person. Such cases are most common and play an important part, for
instance, in the problems of altruism.
C. Conflict Situations. Definition of Conflict. A conflict situation
can be defined as a situation where forces acting on the person are
opposite in direction and about equal in strength. In regard to driv¬
ing forces three cases are possible; The person may be located be¬
tween two positive valences, between two negative valences, or a
positive and negative valence may lie in the same direction. There
may be, also, conflicts between driving and restraining forces. Finally,
there may be conflicts between own forces and various combinations
of induced and impersonal forces. The effect and the development
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 261
of conflicts vary with these different constellations, although all con¬
flicts have certain properties in common.
Conflicts Between Driving Forces. What is usually called a choice
means that a person is located between two positive or negative va¬
lences which are mutually exclusive. The child has to choose, for
example, between going on a picnic (Figure 45a) and playing
with his comrades G^. (Figure 45 and some of the later figures rep-
i
T
T i
O b
Figure 45. (a) Force field corresponding to two positive valences, (b) Force
field corresponding to two negative valences,
resent situations where the physical directions and distances are suffi¬
ciently important psychologically to be used as frames of reference
for the life space. One can speak in these cases of quasi-physical
fields.) An example of a child standing between two negative va¬
lences is a situation in which punishment G^ is threatened if he does
not do a certain disagreeable task G^ (Figure 45b). Figure 45a and b
represents the corresponding force fields. If the child is located at A
and the strength of the valences are equal, he will be exposed to
262 Field Theory in Social Science
forces which are equal in strength but opposite in direction. In the
first example, the opposing forces /a, and are directed toward
the picnic and play. In the second example, the opposing forces
Ia, -o^ and fA, -o^ are directed away from the task and the punish¬
ment.
From these force fields certain differences of behavior can be de¬
rived. In the case of two negative valences, there is a resultant force
in the direction of "leaving the field” altogether. If the two negative
valences are very great, the child may run away from home, or try to
Figure 46. OflFer of a reward.
avoid the issue. To be effective, the threat of punishment has to in¬
clude the creation of a set-up which prohibits this avoidance (77),
that is, the creation of a prison-like situation, where barriers B pro¬
hibit leaving the situation in any other way than by facing the task T
or the punishment P. If there is a choice between two positive va¬
lences, no force in the direction of leaving the field exists. Instead,
the child will try to reach both goals if possible.
An example of a conflict due to the presence of a negative and a
positive valence is the promise of reward for doing a disagreeable
task {Figure 46). Here a conflict is brought about by the opposition
of the force Ia. r toward the reward R and the force /j. .r away
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 263
from the disagreeable activity T. The structure of the situation is
similar to that characteristic of a detour problem. Indeed, the child
frequently tries to reach the reward R along a roundabout route
Wa, a. R without passing through the disagreeable activity. The re¬
ward will be effective only if all other paths to R are blocked by an
impassable barrier B which permits entrance to R only by way of T.
The barriers in this case, as in the case of the threat of punishment,
are usually social in nature: The child knows that the adult will pre¬
vent certain actions by social force.
STRENGTH OF
FORCE
Figure 47. Graphical representation of the change of the strength of a force
with the distance to a positive and a negative valence. E is the point of equilibrium
of forces corresponding to the positive and negative valences.
The necessity for setting up a barrier around the reward indicates
one of the differences between this method of making the child per¬
form a disagreeable activity T and the methods which try to change
the negative valence of T itself into a positive one. A "change of in¬
terest" in T may be brought about by imbedding the activity T (for
instance, the disliked figuring) into a different setting (for instance
264 Field Theory in Social Science
into playing store), so that the meaning, and consequently the va¬
lence, of T is changed for the child. Such a method makes the crea¬
tion of a barrier unnecessary and secures spontaneous actions of the
child toward the previously disliked activity as a result of the newly
created positive central field.
Another example of a conflict between a positive and negative
valence can be observed in a setting where a child of three years is
trying to seize a toy swan from the waves on the seashore. Following
the forces corresponding to the positive valence of the swan, the
child will approach the swan. If, however, he comes too close to the
waves, the force away from the waves may be greater than those
toward the swan. In this case the child will retreat. The force cor-
Figure 48. Conflict between driving and restraining forces in the case of a
physical and soaal obstacle to a goal. fA. o is a driving force. rfA. a is a restraining
force, ph is the physical sector of the barrier, B. si is the social sector of the
barrier.
responding to the negative valence of the waves decreases rather
rapidly with the increasing distance because of the limited range of
the effect of the waves (Figure 47 ). The forces corresponding to the
positive valence of the swan diminish much more slowly with the dis¬
tance. There exists, therefore, an equilibrium between the opposing
forces at point £ where their strengths are equal
The children may be observed wavering around this point of equi¬
librium until one of these forces becomes dominant as a result of
changes of circumstances or of a decision.
Conflicts between Driving and Restraining Forces. A most com¬
mon type of conflict arises when a child is prevented from reaching
a goal (7 by a barrier B. Two basic cases may be distinguished: (i)
the child is surrounded by a barrier with the goal outside; (2) the
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 265
goal is surrounded by a barrier with the child outside. The hrst case
is a prison>like situation which gives the child little space of free
movement. In the second case, the child is free except in regard to
the region G. Each of these cases leads to specific reactions (77).
We shall now discuss in greater detail a sequence of behavior typical
of the second case.
At first, a certain amount of change in structure usually occurs:
The child tries to investigate the nature of the obstacle with the pur¬
pose of finding a section s within the barrier which will permit pas-
i
I
Figure 49. Line of equilibrium between driving and restraining forces
in the case of a circular barrier.
sage. Such a change in cognitive structure is similar to that observed
in detour problems. It is very common for a child to be in situations
where an obstacle could be overcome with the help of an adult. In
these situations the barrier is composed of at least two sectors, one
corresponding to the physical obstacle ph (Figure 48), the other to
the social obstacle si. In the experiment of Fajans, mentioned above,
practically all children conceived of the barrier at first as a physical
obstacle (as too great a physical distance). For the children above
two years, after some time the social aspect of the situation became
clear and led to social approaches toward the goal (the children asked
the adult for help).
266
Field Theory in Social Science
The barrier acquires a negative valence for the child after a num¬
ber of unsuccessful attempts to cross it. This change is equivalent to
a change in the force field from the structure represented in Figure
49 to that of Figure 50. If the barrier is an obstacle but has no nega¬
tive valence, the corresponding force field does not reach much
beyond the barrier (Figure 49). The restraining forces merely
hinder a locomotion in the direction of the force fc, b without driving
the person away from B. The line of equilibrium £ between driving
and restraining force lies, therefore, close to the barrier region.
1
Figure 50. Line of equilibrium after the b.irrier (the same as in Figure 49)
has acquired a negative valence.
If, after failure, the barrier acquires a negative valence, the cor¬
responding negative central force field will reach out farther (Figure
50) so that the line of equilibrium £ between the force fc. o toward
the goal and the force fc, -n away from the barrier is located at a
greater distance.
With increasing failure, the negative valence tends to increase.
This enlarges the distance between the line of equilibrium and the
barrier until the child leaves the field altogether.
Fajans (34) has given a detailed report about the form and
sequence of events in such a situation. Usually the child leaves the
field at first only temporarily. After some time the forces toward the
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 26j
goal again become greater than the forces away from the barrier,
and the child returns. If the new attempts are still unsuccessful, the
negative valence increases again until the child leaves. On the average,
these later attempts show less duration. Finally, the child leaves the
field permanently; he gives up. Barker, Dembo, and Lewin (9)
report similar sequences of behavior in children between two and
six years in a slightly different setting of frustration.
Active children, on the average, are more persistent than passive
ones (34). Some active children, however, are particularly quick to
leave the situation, probably because they decide soon that the barrier
is impassable. A state of equilibrium in such a conflict can lead to
passive, gesture-like action toward the goal: The child stays below
the goal with his arm erect but he makes no actual attempts to reach
it. Children frequently leave the field psychologically without leaving
the room bodily. They may try to enter a different activity, may day¬
dream, or start self-manipulation with their clothes or their body
(6, 34, 116).
A conflict between driving and restraining forces may also occur
if the child is prevented by an obstacle from leaving the field of a
negative valence. Such a situation exists, for instance, if a child is
oversatiated with an activity but prevented from leaving it, or in any
other prison-like situation. The sequence of behavior is, in many
respects, similar to that discussed above. Attempts to leave are fol¬
lowed by the giving up of such attempts as the result of the relation
between the strength of the force /x. .a away from the region A and
the increasing negative valence of the barrier. Frequently a state of
high emotional tension results.
Conflicts Between Own and Induced Forces. Every one of the
conflict situations discussed above might be due to the opposition of
two forces corresponding to the child’s own needs, to the opposition
of two induced forces, or to the opposition between an own and an
induced force. Many effects of conflict situations are independent of
these differences. Certain effects, however, are typical of conflicts
between own and induced forces.
A force induced by a person P on a child C can be viewed as the
result of the power field of that person over the child. The person
having power over the child is able to induce positive and negative
valences by giving orders. By a restraining command, he can change
268
Field Theory in Social Science
the character of a region which would be passable according to the
child’s own ability into an impassable barrier. In other words, "the
power of P over C” means that P is able to create induced driving or
restraining forces a which correspond to P's will.
A conflict between own and induced forces always permits at least
one other solution in addition to those discussed above: The child
may attempt to undermine the power of the other person, at least in
the area of conflict. The tendency of a conflict between own and in¬
duced forces to lead to fights has been observed by Waring, Dwyer,
and Junkin (126) in nursery school children in an eating situation,
pembo (25) and J. D. Frank (37) have observed similar tendencies
in students. M. E. Wright (134) found an increasing aggression
against the experimenter in pairs of nursery school children in a
setting of frustration induced by the experimenter. The children
showed greater cooperation among themselves. This might be inter¬
preted as due partly to the tendency to increase their own power
relative to the power of the experimenter. Lewin, Lippitt, and White
(82) found a strong tendency toward aggression in autocratic atmos¬
pheres which are dominated much more by induced forces than by
forces corresponding to the own needs of the children. This aggres¬
siveness, however, was usually not directed against the supreme
powers of the leader but diverted toward their fellows or toward
material objects. If the suppressive power of the leader is too great,
even this aggression ceases.
D. Emotional Tension and Restlessness. Emotional Tension and
Strength of Conflict. If two opposing forces are equal in strength the
resultant force will be zero, independent of the absolute strength of
the forces. As far as changes in position are concerned, therefore, no
difference should exist in the effect of conflicts between weak and
between strong forces. Actually, the state of the person is quite dif¬
ferent in a weak and in a strong conflict. One of the main differences
is the intensity of emotional tension (e/), which seems to be a func¬
tion of the strength of the opposing forces [et = F( \ fA. o \ )']’ As
mentioned above, greater emotionality is found in infants if the
distance to an inaccessible goal is small than if it is large. This is one
of the reasons why increasing incentives favor the solution of detour
and other intellectual problems only up to a certain intensity level.
Above this level, however, increasing the forces to the goal makes the
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 269
necessary restructurxzation more difficult, partly because the person
has to move against stronger forces, partly because the resultant emo¬
tionality leads to primitivation (regression). Barker, Dembo, and
Lewin (9) found that the frequency of negative emotional behavior
increased with the intensity of frustration. The same holds for the
amount of regression as measured by the constructiveness of play
(Figure 39, p. 247).
The Form of Restless Movement. One of the simplest expressions
of emotionality is restless movements, movements which are not
directed to a certain goal, but are merely an expression of tension.
Actually, all combinations of undirected expression, such as restless¬
ness and purposeless behavior, occur (25). Irwin (61) found that
general activity as measured by the stabilimeter increases in infants
with the time after the last feeding. This indicates that the amount
of undirected activity is a good measurement of the state of tension
accompanying hunger at that age level.
Restless movements are usually perpendicular to the direction of
the force to the goal, or more generally, they proceed as much as
possible along the line of equilibrium. In the case of the six-month-
old child reaching to the goal restless movements of his arms and legs
occur perpendicular to the direction of the goal. Behind a U-shaped
barrier (Figure 41), the restless movements are parallel to the bar¬
rier along the line rm. In a constellation corresponding to Figure 49
or 50 the restless movements will follow the line E. This is verified
in a situation where a one-and-one-half-year-old child tries to reach a
toy G behind a circular physical barrier B. The restless movements of
the child take the form of circling around that barrier. (For details
see 79.)
The restless movement can be understood as a tendency to move
away from the present situation, that is, as a movement corresponding
to a force
V. OVERLAPPING SITUATIONS
Frequently the person finds himself at the same time in more than
one situation. The simplest example is that of divided attention: A
child in the classroom listens to the teacher but also thinks about the
ball game after school. The amount to which the child is involved
270 Field Theory in Social Science
in either of these two situations, and 5 ^ is called their relative
potency, Po(S^) and Po(S^).
The effect a situation has on behavior depends upon the potency
of that situation. In particular, the effect a force has on behavior is
proportional to the potency of the related situation.
A. Overlapping Activities. Barker, Dembo, and Lewin (9) speak
of secondary play, as distinguished from primary play, when the
child does not give his full attention to play. The constructiveness of
secondary play is decisively below that of primary play. In experi¬
ments about psychological satiation (68, 76), a person who is sup¬
posed to repeat an activity over and over again tends to perform the
repetition as a secondary activity on a peripheral level. Activities such
as writing may be considered as an overlapping of two activities,
Figure 51. State of indecision. 5 ^ and 5 * axe the two possibilities with their
goals and O is a region of making a decision.
namely, (i) conveying a certain meaning, (2) writing symbols. The
first has the nature of a steadily progressing action, the second that
of a repetition. The velocity of becoming satiated depends upon the
relative potency of the repetitive aspect of the activity. Writing a
letter, therefore, may lead more quickly to satiation in a child for
whom writing is more difficult. Similarly, walking or other activities
which usually have very low potency for the adult may soon lead to
satiation in the child.
B. Decision. A situation of choice can be viewed as an overlapping
situation. The person being in the process of making a decision D
(Figure 51) usually alternates between seeing himself in a future
situation corresponding to the one and to the other possibility (S^
and S^). In other words, the potency of the various possibilities
fluctuates. When a decision is reached, one of these situations acquires
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 2jx
the dominant potency permanently. In a choice between activities of
different degrees of difficulty, the decision is influenced by the prob¬
ability of success or failure of each task. Escalona (33) has shown
that this probability is equivalent to the potency of the corresponding
future situation*
The decision time increases also, the more the opposing forces are
equal in strength (8). B. A. Wright (132) found, in a study of
altruistic and egoistic choices, that eight-year-old children whose
choices were all either altruistic or egoistic arrived at a decision more
quickly than those who made sometimes the one type of choice and
sometimes the other. Cartwright (22), in experiments on discrimina¬
tion of figures and of meaning, found the decision time to be longest
if the forces in opposite directions were equal. More recently the
theory has been elaborated and quantified by Cartwright and Fes-
tinger (23).
Decision time also increases with the importance of the decision
(the valence of the goals). Jucknat (65), in a study of the level of
aspiration with children, and Barker (8). in a study of choices be¬
tween more or less agreeable or disagreeable foods, found that the
choice time increased with the intensity of the conflict. The decision
time is longer in choices between two negative than between two
positive valences (8). This latter fact derives from the different
^uiiibria existing in the different constellations of forces (79).
Decision time shows great individual variations. Extreme decision-
retardation is typical of certain types of depression (33).
C. Immediate Situation and Background. The influence which the
background of a situation has on behavior can be understood as an
overlapping of an immediate situation and of the situation at large
(9)* A background of frustration decreases constructiveness of play
even if the play itself is not hampered from the outside. The amount
of regression increases with increasing potency of the background of
frustration (Figure 39, p. 247).
Sheffield (115) and others report cases where school work was
greatly changed by a change of the home background.
p. The Effect of the Group on the Individual. The effect of group
belongingness on the behavior of an individual can be viewed as the
result of an overlapping situation: One situation corresponds to the
persons own needs and goals: the other to the goals, rules, and
272 Field Theory in Social Science
values which exist for him as a group member. Adaptation of an
individual to the group depends upon the avoidance of too great a
conflict between the two sets of forces (79).
A child usually belongs to a great number of groups, such as his
family, the school, the church, friends. ^C^ithin the family he may
belong to a subgroup containing him and his closest sibling. The
effect of the various groups—particularly whether or not the child
is ruled by the ideology and values of the one or the other—depends
on the relative potency of these groups at that time. Schanck (106)
has found that the influence of public or private morale is different
at home and in the church. In school children, the tendency to cheat
changes with the social setting (55).
Many conflicts in childhood are due to forces corresponding to the
various groups to which the child belongs. Such conflicts are particu¬
larly important for children in marginal positions, that is, for chil¬
dren who are standing on the boundary between two groups. One
example is the adolescent who no longer wants to belong to the chil¬
dren’s group but who is not yet fully accepted by the adults. Un¬
certainty of the ground on which the child stands leads to an
alternation between the values of the one and of the other group, to
a state of emotional tension, and to a frequent fluctuation between
overaggressiveness and overtimidity (see Chapter 6). The degree
to which such adolescent behavior is shown depends upon the degree
to which children and adolescents are treated as separate groups in
that culture (13, 102).
A similar effect of marginality can be observed in regard to other
types of groups. Emotional tension is high in inmates of reformatory
schools as a result of the marginal position of these children between
the criminal and the "honest citizen" (73). Emotional tension di¬
minishes when the child accepts his belongingness to a definite group.
A decrease in emotionality was observed in those inmates who ac¬
cepted their belonging to the criminal class. Marginality is an im¬
portant problem for the crippled or the otherwise handicapped child
(10, 29). Shaw et al. (114) have shown the influence of residing in
marginal sections of a city on criminality of children. Marginality
raises important problems for children belonging to minority groups,
such as Negroes or Jews (40, 80). The effect, in many respects, is
similar to that typical of the adolescent.
273
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation
Factors Determining the Fielo and its Change
In the preceding section we have discussed the results of the
cognitive structure and of certain constellations of forces on behavior.
We shall now discuss factors which determine the constellation of
forces. This second problem is equivalent to the question of how one
part or aspect of the life space depends upon other parts or aspects.
Of course, both problems are interrelated since any behavior result¬
ing from a certain situation alters the situation to some degree. We
shall here limit our discussion to problems related to needs. They
refer to the relation between the state of that region in the life space
which represents the person and the psychological environment.
I. need, force fields, and cognitive structure
Need and Valence. During the development of the child, needs
are constantly changing in intensity and degree of differentiation.
The so-called crises of development are periods of particularly im¬
portant or particularly quick changes in needs. In addition, there is a
change of needs in briefer periods corresponding to the states of
hunger, satiation, and oversatiation.
Needs have the character of "organizing” behavior. One can dis¬
tinguish a hierarchy of needs. One need or a combination of several
needs may set up derived needs (quasi-needs) equivalent to specific
intentions.
Needs are closely related to valences. W^hat valence a certain ob¬
ject or activity \ya(G)'} has depends partly upon the nature of that
activity (G), and partly upon the state of the needs It(G)'] of the
person at that time IVa(G) = F (G, ffGJJ]. An increase in the in¬
tensity of need (for instance, the need for recreation) leads to an
increase of the positive valence of certain activities (such as going to
the movies or reading a book) and to an increase in the negative
valence of certain other activities (such as doing hard work). Any
statement regarding change of needs can be expressed by a statement
about certain positive and negative valences.
As a result of the increase in positive valence which accompanies
the state of hunger of a particular need, areas of activities which are
negative or on a zero level when the need is satiated acquire a positive
274 Field Theory in Social Science
valence. The hungrier person is usually satisfied with poorer food
( 70 )-
The valence of an activity is related to its consummatory value for
satisfying the need. Not all activities, however, which have positive
valence also have satisfaction value in case of consumption; on the
other hand, activities with no or even negative valence may have
satisfaction value. Valence and satisfaction value should, therefore,
be clearly distinguished. It is surprising how frequently valence and
value actually go hand in hand. D. ICatz (70) reported an increase
in the valence of foods which contain minerals for which deficiencies
had been established in chickens. When the deficiency was removed
the valence again decreased. Similar results have been claimed for
children. Experience may change the valence as well as the meaning
which an activity has for the child. The child has to make many im¬
portant decisions (for instance, in regard to occupation) on the basis
of the valence of an activity rather than on the basis of clear knowl¬
edge of its satisfaction value.
Need and Cognitive Structure. The cognitive structure of the life
space is influenced by the state of the needs. Murray (96) found that
faces of other people appear more malicious to children in a state of
fear than normally. Stern and MacDonald (117) found that pictures
without definite meanings will be seen according to the mood of the
child.
The effect which a need has on the structure of the life space
depends upon the intensity of the need and upon the fluidity of the
related areas of the life space. Dembo (25) found hallucination-like
wish fulfillments in highly emotional situations. If the visual field is
sufficiently fluid, its structure may be considerably changed by in¬
tention (quasi-need) (51, 77). Levels of irreality, being more fluid
than the level of reality, are, consequently, more easily influenced by
both wishes and fears. This is the reason why dreams and daydreams
mirror the needs of the child. This also explains why, in fantasy and
dreams, needs may come into the open which are kept from "public
life” by social taboos.
Sliosberg (116) has shown that the meaning of objects and events
is more fluid in play than in nonplay situations. The so-called play
technique (32, 56) and other projective methods (96) make use of
this greater flexibility of play to study the deeper desires and sup-
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 273
pressed wishes of children. (It should be mentioned, however, that
pla^ frequently mirrors the actual home situation rather than the
wishes and fears of the child.)
Needs affect the cognitive structure not only of the psychological
present, but, even more, of the psychological future and past. This
is particularly important for the level of aspiration. If the effect of
the needs on the psychological future is particularly great, one speaks
of an unrealistic person. One form of the influence of needs on the
structure of the psychological past is called rationalization; other
forms are repression and lying. The lying of the child in the first
years of life seems frequently to have the nature of an actual change
of the psychological past in line with the child’s needs.
There are great individual differences (24) in the way in which a
child sees ink blots (Rorschach test). Unstable problem children are
more likely to be carried away by wishes and fears than the average
child as a result of their greater fluidity.
n. SATISFYING A NEED
A need may be satisfied either by reaching the desired goal or by
reaching a substitute goal.
A. Satisfaction through Reaching the Original Goal. The intention
to carry out a certain action is equivalent to the creation of a quasi¬
need (77). As long as that need is not satisfied, a force corresponding
to the valence of the goal region should exist and lead to an action
in the direction of that goal (see Chapter i).
Ovsiankina (97) studied the resumption of interrupted activities.
She found a high tendency to resume the task (about 80 per cent) if
the inner goal of the person was not reached. In some cases, after
resumption, the person stopped as soon as a substitute satisfaction was
reached.
The frequency of resumption depends upon the nature of the task
(it is high for tasks with a definite end as against continuous tasks)
and upon the attitude (need) of the subject. Children between nine
and eleven showed a percentage of resumption (86 per cent) similar
to that of adults. Children who had the attitude of being examined
and of strict obedience showed little resumption owing to the lack
of involvement; they were governed mainly by induced forces. E. Katz
(71), in a study of resumption of interrupted activities on nursery
276 Field Theory in Social Science
school children, found practically the same frequency of resumption
as Ovsiankina (88 per cent). Differences of intelligence, within the
normal range, did not affect the resumption significantly.
The tendency to resume is not diminished if the unfinished work
is out of sight (97)* On the other hand, the presence of uncompleted
work of another person does not lead (or extremely seldom leads)
to spontaneous completion in adults (97) or in children (2). Both
results indicate that the state of the need of the child is decisive for
resumption. Such a need might be instigated if the child becomes
sufficiently involved through watching another person doing the
work. (The results of Rosenzweig (103) with children of various
ages differ somewhat from those of E. Katz and Adler and Kounin.
These differences are probably due to factors peculiar to his situation.)
The forces in the direction of the goal which correspond to a need
can be observed in thinking as well as in action (see Chapter i).
Zeigarnik (135) studied the effect of quasi-needs on the tendency to
recall. She found the quotient of the recollection of uncompleted to
completed tasks to be 1.9 for adults and 2.5 for children between
five and ten years old. This quotient, like the frequency of resump¬
tion, depends on the degree of involvement of the subject. The
difference between children and adults is probably due to a greater
involvement of the children in the particulat type of activity and to
a more immediate dependence of thinking upon the valences. Zeigar¬
nik found that certain types of unintelligent children are particularly
persistent in their tendency to come back to the unfinished tasks,
whereas easily distractible children show a low quotient.
Marrow (89) investigated the effect of praise and condemnation
in a competitive situation on the Zeigarnik quotient. He found that
in both cases it rises. This indicates that the strength of the force in
the direction of spontaneous recollection is a function of the intensity
of the need. When the subject was told that he would be interrupted
as soon as the experimenter saw that he could complete the activity
successfully, the quotient was slightly below one. The findings of
Marrow and Zeigarnik show that the decisive factor for the release
of the need tension is the reaching of the individual’s goal rather than
the finishing of the work as such. Experiments by Schlote (107),
Sandvoss (105), and Pachauri (98) generally substantiate Zeigar-
nik’s findings.
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation a-}-}
Rosenzweig (103) studied the Zeigarnik quotient under condi¬
tions where the interruption created a feeling of failure. Some chil¬
dren recollected more unfinished, others more finished, tasks. The
latter children had a higher average rating on pride. In Rosenzweig's
setting, the force in the direction of recalling a task which is due to
the need tension, is counteracted by a force away from this task,
which is due to the negative valence of failure. For the children who
show a high rating in pride, this negative valence should be higher,
thus producing Rosenzweig’s results.
B. Substitute Satisfaction. The term substitution was introduced
into psychology by Freud (43). Frequently one activity is called a
substitute for another if they show similarity. However, as any two
types of behavior show some kind of similarity, this terminology is
misleading. Functionally, substitution can be linked either to the
valence of an activity or to its satisfaction value.
Substitute Value, Similarity, and Degree of Difficulty. Lissner
(86) studied the value which one activity has for satisfying a need
originally directed toward another activity by a technique of resump¬
tion. The substitute value was measured by the amount of decrease
in resumption of the interrupted original activity after a substitute
activity has been completed. The substitute value increased (i) with
the degree of similarity between the original and the substitute ac¬
tivity, and (2) with the degree of difficulty of the substitute activity.
The latter factor seemed to be related to the higher level of aspira¬
tion corresponding to a more difficult task.
Substitution on Fantasy Level. If reaching the original goal (for
instance, that of attacking another person) is hindered, frequently a
substitute action on the level of fantasy or talk can be observed (28).
Freud views the dream in part as such a substitute activity. Have these
substitute activities substitute value,^
Mahler (87), using as her subjects children six to ten years old,
has studied the substitute value of finishing an interrupted activity
by talking or thinking instead of acting. She, too, measured substi¬
tute value by the decrease of .the frequency of resumption. On the
a^^rage, the substitute value (2.3) for finishing by action was con¬
siderably higher than for finishing by talking (1.2). (Little differ¬
ence was found between children and adults.) For some activities,
such as figuring, however, finishing by talking had a high substitute
278 Field Theory in Social Science
value. According to Mahler, the same factor which determines the
substitute value of actions is decisive for the substitute value of talk¬
ing, namely, whether or not the individual's goal is reached. For
problem tasks the intellectual solution is decisive; therefore, talking
can have a very high substitute value. For realization tasks the build-
ing of a material object (such as making a box) is the goal; therefore,
talking has practically no substitute value. Thinking through an
activity had no measurable substitute value for realization or problem
tasks. This finding indicates that frequently a condition for satisfac¬
tion value is the creation of a social fact (letting another person
know). Magic” solutions performed in a "make-believe” manner
seemed to have a certain amount of substitute value, but only if the
subject had accepted the magical nature of the situation. This was
accepted more readily by children than by adults.
Substitute Value and Cognition. Adler (i) studied the relation
between certain cognitive processes and substitute value at three age
levels (seven to ten years chronological age). After interruption of
the original task, the child had to finish a second task which was
phpically identical to the interrupted one. For the younger children,
building a house for Mary had no substitute value for building a like
house for Johnny, although these children were able to see the
similarity of the two activities. For older children, too, the substitute
value was low in a situation which favored the "concrete attitude”
(that is, viewing each house as specifically related to Mary or Johnny).
If, however, a categorical attitude (that is, if house-building as
such) was stressed, the two activities showed considerable substitute
value in the older children. For the younger children the substitute
value was low even in the "categorical” situation.
Theoretically, the substitute value of one activity for another
depends upon a communication between the two underlying need
systems in such a way that satisfying the one also satisfies the other.
The results of Lissner, Mahler, and Adler indicate that this com¬
munication depends partly on the cognitive similarity of the activities,
and this in turn on the nature of the situation and the developmental
state of the person. These results are in line with the findings that
the more primitive person is more concrete-minded (Gelb and Gold¬
stein’s (47) work on patients with brain lesions; H. Werner’s (129,
130) findings concerning the increase of "objectivation and abstrac-
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 279
tion” during development; Weigl’s (127) experiments on children;
common observations of feeble-minded). They support Vigotsky’s
(125) theory that "situational’' thinking precedes the "abstract, con¬
ceptual" thinking in the development of the child. The relatively
high age (ten years) at which the "categorical situation" became
effective in Adler's experiment indicates, in addition, that the mere
ability to see abstract similarities does not necessarily have sufficient
weight to establish substitute value for needs.
Substitute Valence in Play and Non-Play Situation. If reaching a
goal, that is, satisfying a need in a particular way, is hindered, spon¬
taneous substitute goals may arise. Students who were unsuccessful
in their attempts to throw rings over a bottle were found to throw
them over near-by hooks (25). Such spontaneous substitute actions,
according to Dembo, have frequently no permanent substitute value.
Instead of satisfying, they seem only to heighten emotional state.
This indicates that activities which appeal as substitutes, that is, which
have substitute valence, do not need to have satisfaction value. We
have mentioned a similar discrepancy between valence and value in
ordinary consumption.
Sliosberg (116) studied substitute valence with children between
three and six years in play and in a serious situation. In a serious
situation, children would not accept make-believe candy (cardboard)
for a piece of chocolate if the make-believe candy was offered after
they had started to use real chocolate. If the make-believe candy was
offered from the beginning, 17 per cent of three- and four-year-old
children accepted it and treated it in a gesture-like way as real candy.
Also, make-believe scissors were accepted (in 15 per cent of the
cases) for real ones only if they were offered before the real ones.
In a play situation, the children accepted the make-believe choco¬
late or scissors in almost 100 per cent of the cases (some of them even
started to chew the chocolate cardboard). If the make-believe object
was introduced without relation to the particular play at hand, the
percentage of acceptance decreased slightly to 75 per cent. The child
was less ready to accept the substitute object if the related need was
in a state of greater hunger.
Important for the acceptance or refusal of a substitute is the plas¬
ticity of the meaning of the object and of the situation. A toy
animal has a more fixed meaning than a pebble or a piece of plas-
28 o
Field Theory in Social Science
ticene and is, therefore, less likely to be accepted as a substitute for
something else. The acceptability of substitutes depends more on the
plasticity of meaning of the substitute object than on that of the
original object. That substitutes are more readily accepted in play is
due to greater plasticity of play in respect to social roles, to the child’s
own position and goals, and to the meaning of objects.
m. CHANGES OF NEEDS AND GOALS
The emergence of a substitute valence can be viewed as one exam¬
ple of a change of needs or valences. How needs arise in the long-
range history of a person and in momentary situations is one of the
basic problems of child psychology. New needs, or, more correctly,
a change in needs, may result from a great variety of circumstances
(96). A child may find out that his friend thinks highly of certain
actions and he then comes to value them himself. A change in social
setting, such as attending a children’s party, may significantly change
the needs of the child in regard to his table manners. Reaching a
goal, as well as not reaching it, may change the valences in a momen¬
tary or permanent way. During development, new needs may arise
by way of differentiation from the previous ones. Behavior in a spe¬
cific situation usually results from a combination of several needs;
in this way a “derived need” fot this behavior may arise. Such a de¬
rived need may be kept dependent upon the source needs or may
become functionally autonomous (3). During various periods of the
life history some needs of the individual seem to die gradually.
Generally speaking, needs may be changed by changes in any part
of the psychological environment, by changes of the inner-personal
regions, by changes on the reality level as well as on the irreality
level (for instance by a change in hope), and by changes in the cog¬
nitive structure of the psychological future and of the psychological
past (80). This is well in line with the fact that the total life space
of a person has to be considered as one connected field. The problem
of emergence of needs lies at the crossroad of cultural anthropology,
developmental psychology, and the psychology of motivation. Its in¬
vestigation has been hampered by premature speculative attempts to
systematize needs into a few categories. In the following pages we
shall discuss a few of the related questions.
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 281
A. Restraining Forces Affecting Needs. Persistence. We have seen
that a failure to reach a certain goal may increase the negative valence
of the obstacle until the constellation of forces is changed in such
a way that a person will withdraw temporarily or finally. This with¬
drawal is frequently accompanied by an open or concealed conflict
which may show itself in aggressiveness. The withdrawal can, how¬
ever, go hand in hand with a full acceptance of the inaccessibility of
the goal. This is equivalent to an actual giving-up; The inaccessible
region ceases to be an effective part of the life space. If the child
rea<±es a state where the inaccessibility becomes a "matter of fact,”
he is no longer in a state of frustration or conflict.
What IS usually called persistence is an expression of how quickly
goals change when the individual encounters obstacles. Fajans (34)
found previous failure to decrease persistence in one- to six-year-old
children when they were again confronted with the same type of dif¬
ficulty. Success led to a relative increase of persistence. When the
same task was repeated, a combination of success and praise increased
persistence 48 per cent, a success alone 25 per cent; a substitute suc-
cess led to a decrease of 6 per cent, failure to a decrease of 48 per
cent. Similar effects of praise and failure were found by Wolf (131).
e have seen that such a change in goals depends on the change in
the cognitive structure and on individual differences which can be
0 served even in the infant (34). These experiments indicate that
fie velocity with which these goals change depends, in addition,
upon the psychological past and the social atmosphere. Jack (62)
and Keister (72) found that it is possible to change the reaction of
nursery school children to failure through proper training. The in¬
crease of persistence and the decrease of rationalization and of emo-
tional and destructive reactions showed a certain amount of transfer
to different areas of activity.
rg Needs. H. F. Wright (133) has shown in
penments with adults and children that a difficulty may increase
the need for an object behind a barrier. Children, like adults, will
p eter goal which is more difficult to reach, provided that the bar-
s strong and that both goal objects are not fully identical.
goal h^u object itself has the nature of a
tef- re instance, the child will
P (everything else being equal) a toy which is slightly more
282
Vield Theory in Social Science
difiicult to reach. If, however, he has to choose between two tools
with which to get the same object, he wxU prefer that tool which is
easier to reach. Wright's investigations indicate that the so-called
law of parsimony (using the easiest way) holds only for psycholog¬
ical means, but not for ends. This latter fact is closely related to the
problem of the level of aspiration.
B. Psychological Satialion. One can distinguish in regard to all or
most needs a state of hunger, of satiation, and of oversatiation. These
states correspond to a positive, a neutral, and a negative valence of
the activity regions which are related to a particular need. Karsten
(68), in experiments with college students, has studied the effect of
repeating over and over again such activities as reading a poem,
writing letters, drawing, and turning a wheel. She found the main
symptoms of satiation to occur in this order: (i) small variations;
(2) large variations; (3) the breaking-up of larger units of action
into smaller parts, loss of meaning; (4) mistakes, unlearning; (5)
fatigue and similar "bodily" symptoms.
These results provide one more reason for revising the older the¬
ories which explain the genesis of larger units of actions in terms
of associations between smaller units established through repetition.
Repetition may lead to the combining of smaller units of action into
larger ones, but sufficient repetition will break up larger units. This
involves, in case of meaningful material such as poems or sentences,
a destruction of the meaning. A similar disintegration may also occur
for the situation as a whole.
Satiation occurs only if the activity has, psychologically, the char¬
acter of an actual repetition, of marking time as opposed to making
progress. If the character of making progress can be maintained, the
usual symptoms of satiation will not appear.
Psychological satiation frequently leads to muscular fatigue or such
bodily symptoms as hoarseness. It is frequently the main cause of
"fatigue" in children. Like hysterical symptoms, these bodily symp¬
toms cannot be eliminated by voluntary effort, although they are
caused by psychological factors and may disappear with the transi¬
tion to other activities even though the new activity makes use of
the same muscles in practically the same way. Imbedding an activity
in a different psychological whole so that its meaning is changed has
practically the same effect in satiation as shifting to a different activ-
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 283
ity. The superiority of the method of learning to read and write
whole sentences or words rather than single letters is based partly
on the fact that the former method is less likely to lead to satiation.
The good primer is careful to repeat the same words in such a way
that they are imbedded in somewhat different wholes, and that a
program of meaning” rather than actual repetition occurs.
Repetition not only changes the needs related to the activity which
is carried out, but usually also affects the needs related to psycho¬
logically similar activities, by way of cosatiation.
The velocity of satiation (that is, how quickly repetition leads to
a change in needs) depends, according to Karsten, mainly upon (i)
the nature of the activity (particularly the size of its units of action),
(2) the degree of centrality, and (3) the individual character and
state of the person. Pleasant as well as unpleasant activities are more
quickly satiated than neutral activities which in other respects are
^uivalent. Giving more attention to an activity (without changing
its meaning) seems merely to quicken satiation. Freund (44) found
that the velocity of satiation of minute tasks is greater during men¬
struum. All three results can be interpreted as indicating that the
velocity of satiation increases with the centrality of the activity. Fre¬
quently a person tries to avoid satiation by doing the activity in a
peripheral manner. Automatic activities such as breathing or walk¬
ing do not become satiated if they are not carried out consciously as
mere repetition. The effect of primary and secondary aspects of an
artivity can be handled with the concept of relative potency.
Children, in line with their lesser degree of differentiation, are
likely to be involved in an activity with their whole person. The
ve ocity of satiation should, therefore, vary inversely with mental age.
Experimental results seem to confirm this expectation, although they
are not univocal (77, 131). The apparent divergence of findings is
probably due to the fact that child psychology treats the problems
o satiation under the title of persisting or perseverant behavior and
that the term persistence is used to refer to dynamically rather differ-
en situations (for instance, persistence in overcoming an obstacle
an persistence in carrying on an activity without an obstacle),
fh found satiation time to be longer for a complex task
an or a simpler one, without much age difference between three-,
tour-, and five-year-old children.
284 Field Theory in Social Science
Wolf (131) studied satiation in situations of praise, competition,
and of no incentive with children of four and six years, making a
careful analysis of the individual cases. She found the individual
goal of the child to be of primary importance and this goal to de¬
pend upon the level of aspiration.
Kounin (76) compared the satiation and cosatiation of normal
7-year-old children with 12- and 30- to 40-year-old feeble-minded
persons of the same mental age. He found that the velocity of satia¬
tion (drawings of different patterns) decreased with increasing age.
The younger child shows greater cosatiation in spite of the small
number of repetitions required for satiating an activity. In other
words, the velocity of satiation and the degree of cosatiation decrease
with chronological age even if mental age is kept constant. Kounin
(76), and Seashore and Bavelas (no) found about the same symp¬
toms of satiation in children which Karsten has described with adults.
The phenomena of satiation indicate (i) that there*is a close re¬
lation between activities and needs, and (2) that an activity can be
viewed as a consumption which changes the underlying need and,
therefore, the positive valence of the activity into a negative one. As
a result of this consumption the valence of “similar activities” also
becomes negative, whereas certain different types of activities acquire
an increasingly positive valence.
A satiated or oversatiated need, after a lapse of time, frequently
changes back into a state of hunger. The conditions of these changes
need investigation.
C. Intention. The effect of an intention can be viewed as the
setting-up of a quasi-need (77). A quasi-need is dynamically equiv¬
alent to other needs in that it tends to create actions in the direction
of satisfying the need, with or without the presence of a correspond¬
ing goal object. Intentions are made, as a result of a given time per¬
spective, to secure a certain behavior in the future which is expected
to bring nearer the fulfillment of one or of several needs. The newly
established quasi-need usually remains dependent on these source
needs.
Experiments of Birenbaum (14) show that the tension level of
such a quasi-need depends upon the tension level of the more in¬
clusive set of needs of which this quasi-need is a part. An intention
will be “forgotten,” that is, not carried out, if these source needs
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 285
have been satisfied in the meantime, or if the state of the person as a
whole has become one of high general satisfaction.
D. hteeds as Part of More Inclusive Needs. It has been stated that
goals or other valences are closely related to needs. Changes of goals
depend largely upon the interdependence of needs. Needs may be
interdependent in different ways: (a) Two or more needs can be in
communication so that their need tensions vary concomitantly. As
we have seen, such relation is important for the problem of substi¬
tution. (b) The interdependence between needs can be one of ruling
and being ruled. For instance, quasi-needs which correspond to inten¬
tions are induced by ruling needs. In both cases of interdependence,
the need becomes a part of a more inclusive needs system (see
Chapter 5).
We have discussed the effect of completion and noncompletion in
regard to satisfying or not satisfying the need behind an action. We
shall discuss now the effect of those actions on the setting-up of new
goals.
Maturity of Aspiration. To a child of six months, lying on his
stomach and trying to reach a rattle, it seems to make no difference
whether he finally reaches the rattle as the result of his own effort
or whether the rattle is brought within his reach by someone else.
The child will be satisfied both ways. A child of three, trying to jump
down from the third step, may refuse help. He will not be content
unless he has reached certain results by his own effort. The very young
child seems to know only satisfaction and dissatisfaction but not
success and failure. In other words, he has needs and goals but not
yet a level of aspiration.
We speak of aspiration in regard to an action if the result of this
action is seen as an achievement reflecting one's own ability; if, in
addition, different degrees of difficulty can be distinguished, we
speak of a level of aspiration. The level of aspiration is of basic
importance for the conduct of human beings and influences most of
their goal-seeking. In this connection we have the paradox that the
m ividual may prefer something more difficult to something more
easy. ^
Pales {4) has studied the development, over a period of six
months, of aspiration in two- to three-year-old children. She observed
sue activities as putting on and removing snow suits. Refusing help
286
Field Theory in Social Science
IS probably the best behavioral symptom for the existence of an
aspiration in regard to an activity. Such insistence on independence
indicates that one’s own action has become a part of the goal. Observ-
ing manipulations of various degrees of difficulty (such as opening
the zipper, getting an arm out of the coat, hanging the cap on the
hook), she found that children at this age have an aspiration only
in regard to particular activities. One of the determining factors is
the ability of the child; he will not refuse help for activities definitely
beyond his reach. As he becomes older or is better trained an aspira¬
tion develops in regard to the more difficult actions. Fales also
iniNiii nonA«vwwo a«vvaao
Figure 52. Maturity of aspiration at three age levels and amount of regression
under social pressure (reward). The frequency with which the child places the
missed ring on a stick or rethrows the single ring instead of 6nishing the series of
rings is indicated.®
found that social situations or praise facilitate the rise of an aspira¬
tion. This indicates that a social component is important for aspiration
from its earliest development.
It is possible to distinguish different degrees of "maturity of
aspiration," corresponding to different types of goals and procedures
in attaining them at various age levels. Q. Anderson (4) developed
a scale of maturity of aspiration for children between two and eight
years, using activities such as throwing a series of rings over a
stick and knocking down tenpins with a ball. A child of eight will
consider the series of five throws as one unit and will not, therefore,
rethrow single rings which miss the stick before counting his score.
® The data in this figure are derived from a study by C. Anderson (4).
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 287
Children of the youngest group (three years old) always pick up
the single rings after missing the stick and rethrow them or place
them directly on the stick. The youngest children do not hold to the
rule of standing behind a given place. These and other symptoms
indicate that the development of a level of aspiration, the choosing
of a goal of a particular degree of difficulty, presupposes (i) that a
number of goals are seen as subgoals within a larger goal structure,
(2) that the action itself is conceived as a part of the goal, and
(3) that the child understands the meaning of rules and is ready to
keep them.
If pressure is brought to bear on a child by offering a reward, the
level of aspiration (that is, the degree of difficulty chosen) will
decrease. If a lowering of the level of aspiration is made impossible,
the maturity of aspiration may regress (Figure 52); that is, a pro¬
cedure is used which is characteristic of a younger age level. Regres¬
sion of the maturity of aspiration can be observed in adults in
emotional situations.
Level of Aspiration. Level of aspiration has been defined (57) as
the degree of difficulty of that task chosen as a goal for the next
action. One may distinguish two main problems: (1) under what
condition the individual experiences success or failure, and (2) what
factors influence the level of aspiration.
Conditions for the Experience of Success or Failure. The experience
of success or failure depends on the level of performance within a
frame of reference (81). This frame of reference can be the level
of aspiration (that is, the goal which has been set for that action),
the past performance, or the standards of a group. A feeling of
success will prevail if a certain level, related to the dominant frame
of reference, is reached. What frame of reference will be dominant
depends upon a number of factors, one of which is the tendency to
avoid the feeling of failure.
It has been shown (36, 52, 108) that to avoid the feeling of
ailure after a poor performance the frame of reference is frequently
shifted. Other ways to avoid failure are various forms of rationaliza¬
tion (36, 57), such as blaming a poor instrument for the short¬
comings of the performance. In this way the link between perform¬
ance and one s own ability is cut, which is, as we have seen, one of
the conditions for the phenomenon of aspiration.
288
Field Theory in Social Science
Jucknat (65) distinguished different intensities of the feeling of
success and failure. They are to be related to the amount of dis¬
crepancy between goal and performance. This holds, however, only
within the range of difficulties which is dose to the boundary level
of ability. Too easy and too difficult*’ tasks do not lead to feelings
of success and failure. This may be the reason why rivalry among
siblings is less frequent when there are relatively great differences of
age among them (111).
The relation between the feeling of success and failure, on the
one hand, and the boundary of ability, on the other, is operative only
if other frames of reference, such as certain group standards, do not
become dominant. The mentally retarded child might have per¬
manently the feeling of failure in a group of children of high ability
even though the tasks were actually far beyond the limit of his own
ability.
Case studies (67) and experimental data (34) show that change
in group status (for instance, gaining recognition or love or being
rejected by an individual or a larger group) is, in many respects,
equivalent to success or failure.
Factors Determining the Level of Aspiration. After the experience
of success or failure the person may either quit or continue with a
higher, equal, or lower level of aspiration. The difference between
the level of aspiration for the new action and the level of past per¬
formance is called the ’’discrepancy” between level of aspiration and
performance (for details see 81).
The factors determining a change in the level of aspiration are
manifold. Jucknat (65) found that with children from nine to fifteen
and with adults the direction and the amount of the change in the
level of aspiration depended upon the degree of success and failure.
In addition, within a given series of tasks, the discrepancy was smaller
for the same amount of success and greater for the same amount of
failure the closer the previous level of performance came to the
extreme of the series of difficulties.
The level of aspiration is much influenced by social factors. In a
situation of competition it might be increased (37). The knowledge
of group standards may affect the level of aspiration (36)* ^^r
instance, the discrepancy between aspiration and performance in¬
creased toward a higher level of aspiration if the person learned that
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 289
his performance was below the standard of his own group or of a
group which he considered to be lower. The discrepancy decreases if
the opposite conditions obtain. The level of aspiration is affected also
by the degree of realistic judgment about one’s own ability (37).
P. Sears (108) found the average positive discrepancy (that is, the
amount by which the level of aspiration exceeds past performance)
to be greater in children after failure than after success, indicating a
greater degree of realism after success than after failure.
For the same individual, the direction and amount of discrepancy
seem to be constant to a certain degree for a number of activities
( 37 > 45 * 108). P. Sears (37) and Jucknat (65) found the dis¬
crepancy to be greater in children of poor standing than in children
of good standing in school. The degree to which the level of aspira¬
tion in one activity affects the level of aspiration in another activity
depends upon their similarity and upon how well previous experience
has stabilized the level of aspiration in these activities {65). The
influence of success in one activity on the level of aspiration in an¬
other is slight if the child has clearly found his ability in the latter.
The level of aspiration is closely related to the time perspective
With respect to both the psychological past and the psychological
future. According to Escalona (33), the level of aspiration at a
given time depends upon the strength of the valence of success and
allure and upon the probability of success at that time. By represent¬
ing this probability as the potency of the future success or failure
situation, the basic facts concerning the level of aspiration can be
understood (see 81).
E. Induced Fleeds. The needs of the individual are, to a very high
degree, determined by social factors. The needs of the growing child
\ new needs induced as a result of the many small
social groups to which he belongs. His needs are much
a ecte also, by the ideology and conduct of those groups to which
belong or from which he would like to be set apart,
he effects of the advice of the mother, of the demand of a fellow
1 , or of what the psychoanalyst calls super-ego^ are all closely
n erwoven with socially induced needs. We have seen that the level
th related to social facts. We may state more generally
3 e culture in which a child grows affects practically every need
290 Field Theory in Social Science
and all his behavior and that the problem of acculturation is one of
the foremost in child psychology.
One can distinguish three types of cases where needs pertain to
sociaPrelations: (i) the action of the individual may be performed
for the benefit of someone else (in the manner of an altruistic act);
(2) needs may be induced by the power field of another person or
group (as a weaker person’s obedience of a more powerful one);
(3) needs may be created by belonging to a group and adhering to
its goals. Actually, these three types are closely interwoven.
Sources of Ideology. Bavelas (12) studied the sources of approval
and disapproval in a number of schools. He found that the frequency
with which children named the teacher as a source for praise or
scolding of behavior in school remained relatively constant from the
fourth to the eighth grade. An individual classmate (as distinguished
from the concept ’’children”) was frequently named as source for
evaluation of behavior in the fourth grade; this frequency declined
to zero by the eighth grade. The school superintendent was prac¬
tically never named as source by children in the fourth grade; he
was named with increasing frequency later on, but mainly as a
source of scolding.
Kalhorn (66) compared positive and negative values and sources
of values in Mennonite and non-Mennonite children in rural areas.
She found differences in the emphasis on such values as individual
achievement and religion. In both groups the parents are indicated
by the children to have the most dominant influence as a source of
values. The same conduct may have different psychological meaning
in different cultures. For instance, going to church is linked with God
as the source of approval by the Mennonite children, with everyone
by the non-Mennonite children. This indicates that church-going is
primarily a religious affair with the former, a social affair with the
latter.
Egoism and Altruism. In an experiment by Moore (94), children
between the ages of two and three were asked to share orange juice
with a companion who was seated beside the subject. Her results
show wide individual differences and no correlation with the degree
to which the child respects the rights of others as determined by
other methods. Hartshorne and May (55) studied test situations in
which service (altruism, cooperation) of the children could be
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 291
observed. They claim that the tendency to serve is "specific" rather
than "general" in children between ten and fourteen years (for a
discussion of the problem of generality of traits see 3). McGrath
(90), using a questionnaire technique, reports that an altruistic
response to a hypothetical situation increases with age. Piaget (99)
orders his findings on the moral development of children in terms
of two psychologically different moralities which are an outgrowth
of two types of social relations: up to seven or eight years, there
exists a social relation of unilateral respect in which the child is
subjected to adult authority. Gradually a relationship of mutual
respect is set up in which each member has a more equal part of the
control.
Figure 53. The situation of altruism. (The meaning of the various symbols
is described in the text.)
B. Wright (132) studied children in a situation where they had
a choice of keeping a preferred toy or giving it to someone else.
The other child (who was not present) was either someone unknown
or a best friend. The five-year-old child was practically always
egoistic: the eight-year-old child showed considerable altruism, and
more so toward the stranger (58 per cent generous choices) than to
the friend (23 per cent generous choices). When acting as an
umpire between a friend and a strange child in distributing the toys,
the five-year-old child favored the friend more frequently than the
stranger. The eight-year-old favored the stranger more frequently
than the friend.
Theoretically, the altruistic or the egoistic choice can be viewed as
the result of the relative strength of forces acting on different regions
of the life space and of the potency of various situations. In the life
292 Field Theory in Social Science
space of child C (Figure 53), a force jc. a acts on his own person
in the direction to a goal G. In addition, a force of pot. o exists in
his life space, acting on the other child. Of, in the direction of the
same goal. (The situation permits only one person to obtain the
goal.) This second force, pot, a, corresponds to the need of the other
child (as perceived by the child whose life space is represented) and
the readiness of the child C to back the goal of the child Ot. Formal-
istically speaking, the altruistic or egoistic choice depends on the
relative strength of these two forces. According to Wright, the need
of the other child is not perceived by the very young child. This
may be the reason for the absence of cooperative play in the young
child. With increasing age, the potency of the perceived need of the
other child increases. Similarly, the potency of the outgroup increases
relative to the potency of the ingroup (friend).
The greater altruism toward the stranger than toward the friend
seems to be due partly to the fact that the child sees himself in the
position of a host toward the stranger, but not toward the friend, and
that his ideology requires that he be hospitable. The children judged
other people to be altruistic or egoistic to the same degree as they
themselves were. A preliminary study seems to indicate that adults in
a similar setting are more egoistic than the eight-year-old child.
Obedience and Social Pressure. In discussing problems of conflicts
we have seen that the force acting on a person in the direction of a
goal might be counteracted by induced forces corresponding to the
will of another person. In view of the relation between psychological
forces and psychological needs we can also speak of induced needs.
The relation between two persons might be that of friends or that
of enemies; the need of each would depend greatly on the power
field of the other.
Wiehe (77) observed children between two and four years of age
when a stranger entered the child’s room. He found the strength of
the power field of the stranger at a given moment to be influenced by
the physical position of both persons. The effect of the power field
on the child increases with decreasing distance. It is very high if the
child is placed on the adult's lap. The power field is weaker back of
the stranger, or where the child cannot be seen, than in front of the
stranger. In other words, the strength of the power field of one person
on another differs for different areas. J. D. Frank (37) in experiments
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 293
with students, and Waring, Dwyer, and Junkin (126) in experiments
with nursery school children at the dinner table, also found the
effectiveness of the power field for creating induced forces to be
greater if the distance between the persons is smaller.
Lippitt and White (84), in experiments with ten-year-old children,
tested the effect of induced needs during the presence and the absence
of the inducing power field. They found that the amount of work
output in an autocratic group atmosphere dropped very decisively
within a few minutes when the leader left the room. This was in
contrast to a democratic group atmosphere, where the work had been
chosen and planned by the group itself, and where the work output
was unchanged when the leader left. C. E. Meyers (93) studied the
effect of conflicting adult authority on children of nursery school age.
He found that the opposing orders lower the children’s constructive¬
ness of play very considerably (from 4J4 254 on his constructive¬
ness scale). The child may stop action altogether (aside from
self-manipulation similar to that described by Arsenian, 6) if he
does not find a way to follow the orders of both authorities. Even if
the orders of both adults agree, too frequent interference with the
child’s play lowers his constructiveness somewhat. Negative com¬
mands were more damaging than positive commands, and vague
commands more damaging than specific ones.
Induced needs which are opposite to own needs may lead to a
permanent state of conflict which is more or less concealed. If such
a conflict cannot be resolved by breaking the dominant power field,
the child may become aggressive toward less powerful persons. Lewin,
Lippitt, and White (82) found that, on several occasions, one of the
children was attacked as a scapegoat in the autocratic group.
Taking Over Foreign Goals. An induced need may slowly change
its character in the direction of an own need. In other words, the
person not only will follow orders but also "accept” them (in the
meaning of taking them over). Waring, Dwyer, and Junkin (126)
have observed changes in this direction with nursery school children.
Duncker (30) studied changes in food preferences of children
from two to five years of age, as affected by a story in which the hero
abhorred one and enthusiastically relished the other of two kinds of
food. After the story, the children preferred the hero’s favorite food,
although previously it had been unattractive to them. This effect
294 Field Theory in Social Science
decreased with time, but could still be detected after six days.
Thompson (121) studied the effect of prejudicial leadership on
ten-year-old children. The leader set up an underprivileged minority
within a group of children who originally had equal status. After a
number of club meetings the children of the privileged majority con¬
tinued to treat the rest of the children as underprivileged even when
the leader left the room. This discrimination, however, was not so
strong as in the presence of the leader. This shows both that the
presence of the power field of the leader has some influence and that
the induced goals have been taken over in some measure.
Lippitt and White (84), in a study of autocratic, democratic, and
laissez-faire groups, have found that the readiness of an individual
to accept autocracy in the club depends partly upon the home back¬
ground. A combination of a firm and warm home atmosphere seems
to be most favorable to that end; that is, an atmosphere of relative
autocracy which, nevertheless, by its warmness, prohibits the child
from becoming independent of the family. These children are likely
to adhere to "adult values" rather than "boy values." Children who
follow boy values are more sociable among themselves but less
obedient at school.
Horowitz (58) found no prejudices against Negroes in white
children under three years. The prejudices increased between four
and six years. This increase was as great in New York as in the South.
It was independent of the degree of acquaintance of the children with
Negro children, and of the actual status of the Negro child in the
class which the white child attended. The prejudices are, however,
related to the attitude of the parents of the white child. This indicates
that the prejudices against the Negroes are due to an induction and
gradual taking-over of the culture of the parents by the child.
A phenomenon which is probably partly due to the acceptance of
originally induced needs and partly to tlie problems of group belong¬
ingness is the hatred against one’s own group in persons belonging
to an underprivileged group. This hatred against the own group is
frequent among the bodily handicapped and among socially under¬
privileged groups (80). It means that the values and prejudices of
the privileged group have been taken over by the members of the
socially lower group even if they are directed against their own
grouji. Th.is hatred of one’s own group may lead to self-hatred. It is
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 295
augmented by the need of the individual to raise his status, and
therefore, to separate himself from the underprivileged group.
Whether or not an induced need has changed its character and has
become an own need is frequently difficult to decide. Lippitt and
White (84) distinguished two types of reaction to an autocratic
atmosphere: one called aggressive autocracy, and the other apathetic
autocracy. In the latter case the children seem to work willingly.
Signs of discontent or obstruction may be entirely absent. Particularly
strict obedience may have the appearance of a voluntary action. This
holds also for the behavior of children in institutions. Nevertheless,
the effect of the removal of the leader in the experiment shows how
great the actual difference in both situations is for the child.
Needs of a Child as a Group Member. As mentioned above, the
children in the democratic group studied by Lippitt and White did not
decrease the intensity of their work if the leader left. The plan for this
work had been decided upon by majority vote after consideration.
This shows that under these conditions a need corresponding to a
group goal is more like an own need than an induced need. This
problem is closely related to the difference between ''we”-feeling and
"r‘-feeling. Lewin, Lippitt, and White (82) found "we”-feeling,
as measured by the verbal expression and the attitude toward the
work, to be greater in the democratic group than in the autocratic
group where an egocentric attitude prevailed.
One can consider two factors to be basic for the kind and degree
of influence which group goals have for the goals of the individual:
(1) the degree of dependence of the person on the group; (2) the
character of enmity or friendship of this dependence. According to
Lippitt (83), the power fields of enemies weaken each other in areas
where they overlap, whereas the power fields of friends strengthen
each other. In addition, friendship as distinguished from enmity
includes the readiness to accept and to back up the intention of the
other person. According to M. E. Wright (134), both characteristics
can be expressed by the degree of accessibility of one’s own power
field to the power field of the other person.
F. individual Differences. We have seen that it is not possible
to determine the specific characteristics of individuals by classifying
them according to their overt behavior. Instead, one has to look for
factors which can be inserted as constant values into the variables of
296 Field Theory in Social Science
the equations which represent psychological laws. In this way also
the variability of behavior, that is, the difference in behavior of the
same individual in different situations, becomes susceptible to treat¬
ment. This variability does not mean merely that the absolute fre¬
quency or intensity of a certain type of behavior depends upon the
situation. Actually, the rank-order of individuals in regard to a certain
trait may also be different in different situations. For instance, Lewin,
Lippitt, and White (82) found in clubs of ten-year-old boys, that in
regard to some "traits,” such as "demanding attention from other
club members” and "out-of-field conversation,” the rank-order of
the individual in different atmospheres remains rather constant
(r = .85 and .78). In other traits, such as "dependence upon
leader,” there is scarcely any consistency of rank-order (r = .o2).
There are more extreme changes in the rank-order in "work-minded-
ness” than in "aggressiveness.” The changes seem to be linked to
the differences of meaning of the particular atmospheres to the
particular children.
The attempts to link problems of individual differences and of
general laws positively are relatively new in psychology. We shall
mention but one example, which is related to differences in age,
intelligence, and rigidity of the person. Lewin (77) has outlined a
theory according to which differences in mental age are closely related
to the degree of differentiation of the person. The variety of states
which an organism can assume, and the corresponding variety of
patterns of behavior, must logically be conceived of (9) as a function
of the degree of the differentiation of that organism. Therefore, with
increasing mental age, the individual should show an increasing
flexibility, in the sense of richness, of behavior. This is in line with
empirical observation of individuals of different mental age and with
the peculiar pedantry and stubbornness of the young child.
The increase of flexibility with increasing mental age is somewhat
counteracted by a decrease in plasticity which seems to go hand in
hand with chronological age and which seems to be important for
senility. A certain type of feeble-mindedness is characterized by the
fact that these individuals show at the same level of differentiation
(the same mental age) less plasticity (77). If this theory is correct,
one should expect less cosatiation in feeble-minded persons than in
normal persons of the same mental age. We have seen above that
Behavior as a Function of Total Situation 297
Koimin (76) demonstrated this with individuals whose chronological
ages were 7, 12, or 30, all having a mental age of 7. One can derive
from the same set of premises that feeble-minded individuals should
be less able to tolerate overlapping situations. One should expect,
therefore, that the feeble-minded person would make fewer mistakes
in case of change of habits under certain conditions, that he would
show greater difference in speed of performance between overlapping
and nonoverlapping situations, and that he would be less able to
change the cognitive structure in a test requiring several classifications
of the same group of objects. Kounin’s experiments substantiate all
these derivations. The results of Koepke (77) and of Gottschaldt
(51) indicate that the readiness of the feeble-minded person to
accept or to refuse a substitute is either very small or very great,
according to the specific situation. This is in line with what should
be expected from a relatively rigid individual.
The coordination of certain individual differences with differences
in the degree of differentiation and rigidity of the person makes it
possible to link behavior in quite a variety of fields, such as cognition,
stubbornness, substitution, and satiation, and to understand apparent
contradictions of behavior. A greater rigidity of the feeble-minded
person also explains why his development is slower than that of the
normal child (that is, the relative constancy of the IQ) and why he
reaches his peak of development earlier.
It can be expected that all problems of individual differences will
be linked more and more with the general psychological laws of
behavior and development and that in this way a deeper understand-
ing of both the individual differences and the general laws will be
possible.
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X3X. Wolf, T. H.: The effect of praise and competition on the persistent behavior
of kindergarten children, Inst. Child Welj. Monogr. Ser., 1938, No. 13,
University of Minnesota Press.
Z32. Wright, B. A.: Altruism in children and the perceived conduct of others,
/. Abnorm. & Social. Psychol., 1942, 37, 2x8-233.
133. Wright, H. F.: The influence of barriers upon the strength of motivation,
Contr. Psychol. Theory, 1937, x. No. 3.
134. Wright, M. E.: The influence of frustration upon the social relations of
young children. Character and Pets., 1943, xa, xxi-122.
Z33. Zeigarnik, B.: Ober das Behalten von erledigten und unerledigten Hand*
lungen, Psychol. Porsch., X927, 9, x-85.
Appendix
ANALYSIS OF THE CONCEPTS WHOLE,
DIFFERENTIATION, AND UNITY
I. Differentiation and Unity of a Whole
Based on Simple Dependence
a. the concept of dependence and degree
of differentiation Of a dynamic whole
Since Kohler’s Physische Gestalten the definition of a ’’dynamic whole”
has been based on the dependence of its parts. This definition holds ^ood
for physical, psychological, and sociological wholes.
Recently Grelling and Oppenheim have undertaken a logical analysis of
the concept of functional whole. They distinguish correctly between logi¬
cal and causal dependence. It is clear that we are dealing here with causal
dependence. We will limit our discussion as much as possible to problems
of dependence which have a bearing on the question of differentiation of
a dynamic whole.
Degree of Dependence, Independence, and Interdependence. It should
be clear from the outset that dependence or independence within a whole
is a matter of degree. Parts within a whole are interdependent but, at
the same time, they are usually independent to some degree.^ In other
words, part a will not be affected, as long as the alteration of part b is
within certain limits. However, if the change of b surpasses this limit, the
state of a will be affected.
More formalistically one can proceed as follows: s^(a), s^(a) may in¬
dicate the state (quality) of a region (system) a at the time i and 2;
' Grelling and Oppenheim mention occasionally that the different degrees of
empirical dependence . . . can be taken account of by introducing the notion of
probability." Such a definition would, we suppose, distinguish degrees of dependence
by its regularity (with correlation = i, or "lawfulness” as the highest degree). The
term, degree of dependence, in this study does not refer to the degree of regularity
u *0 die amount of change in one part, which is without effect on
the other part. We assume here strict "lawfulness" also for small degrees of de¬
pendence. See Grelling. K., and Oppenheim, P.: Der Gestaltbegriff im Licht der
neuen Logik, Erkenntnis, 1938, 7, 21Z-224.
305
3 o 6 Field Theory in Social Science
ch(a) — s^(a) — may indicate the change in the state of a. It may
he further assumed that two regions {a and show the same state at
the beginning: s^(a) z=z s^(b). The independence of a region a from
region B (indep \a,b\)\ may then be defined as the maximum change in b
which would leave the state of a unchanged, or would change it less than
a small amount c.
(13)2 indep (a, b) = ch”^(b), which leads to ch(a) <^f.
The degree of change of b (ch\ b \ ) which does not affect a is not
necessarily the same for different values of s, (for example for a low and
Figure 54- Undifferentiated whole W = whole; a. h, arbitrarily defined parts of
IT; /, line cutting W\ i, 2, .. . small regions along /.
a high tension level). To eliminate this quesdon we may refer always to
the same absolute beginning level, that is, to a definite value of
The degree of dependence of tf on ^ dep \a,b\) can be defined as
the inverse of independence.
(M)
z
dep (a, b) - -—
indep (a, b)
This definition of dependence and independence is not limited to neigh¬
boring regions. It can be used for any co-existing empirical regions (parts
°^-^t^*d*egree of independence of two regions a zni b will usually lx
different for different kinds of change (change of different qualities).
t For reader’s convenience, vertical lines are sometimes I"
parentheses in the Appendix. In this usage they do not indicate, as in some of
Lewin’s formulations, the magnitude of the conceptual element.
2 Propositions in the appendix are numbered in sequence with those in Chapter 5.
Appendix 307
Therefore, when comparing different cases we will always refer to the
same kind of change.
The independence of two regions a and h can be different in different
directions (indep \a,b\s^ tndep \b,a\). We can define the degree of
interdependence of a and b, (tnterdep\a,b\ ) in the following way if
the properties of the system are such that dep (a, b) dep (b, a).
(15) interdep (a, b) = dep (a, b) if dep (a, b) = dep (h, a)
Simple Dependence of Neighboring Regions. For the following dis¬
cussion it is convenient to speak of the degree of independence of re¬
gion a from a neighboring region n (indep \ a, n \ ), The region « is a
neighbor of a if both regions have a common boundary and are otherwise
foreign to each other.
Figure 55. DifTerentiated whole. 1 F’= whole; C\ C", O", . . . natural parts
of W\ a, b, e, . . . arbitrarily defined parts of C\ /, line cutting W •, i, 2, 3, . . .
small regions along /.
In case we have to deal with "simple dependence,” which follows the
principle of proximity, and if indep (a, n) is equal for all neighbors of a,
we can state indep (a, n) ^ indep (a, y) where n is a neighbor of a and y
is any other region foreign to a. This statement
indep (x, n) ^ indep (x, y)
for any region x may be considered a definition of one property of simple
dependence.
Definition of Natural Parts (Cells) Within a Whole and of the Degree
^^ff^^^f^tiation of a Whole. Let us distinguish along the path / which
cuts the whole W as indicated in Figure 54 and Figure 55 a sequence of
points (small regions) i, 2, 3 . . . and let us determine the degree of
mdependence of the region i from every other region of this sequence
fk” ^> ^\ >‘ Indep I 3 I / indep | r, 4 | ; . . . A curve representing
ese degrees of independence might have the uniform character of Fig-
3 o 8
Field Theory in Social Science
Figure 56. Degree of independence of regions in a whole without natural
subparts. The graph refers to the whole represented in Figure 54 - It indicates toe
degree of independence iindep \i.x\) of the region i. (along the line) from the
regions 3 , 3, 4» • - ■ •
lire 563 or it may show sudden changes in slope such as in ^pre 57-
Fieure s6 corresponds to the whole represented in Figure 54. Figure p
co^esponds to Figure 55. If it is possible to make a
whole in such a way that the curve of the second type results, the whole
is said to be differentiated; otherwise it is undifferentiated. Regions w i
correspond to the same plateau within the curve we call subparts of the
same Natural” part, or of the same "cell" of the whole. For mstznce
I, 2. 3 belong to one cell (c'J ; 4. 5 . 6, 7. 9 to another cell (c ). xo.
II, 12 to c”*.
3 We are representing wholes here by not le« than two-dimensional regions
o/ithmit considerine this to be a principal issue. To represent a whole by a zero-
j. I r^ifinn Tooint) IS not usually convenient because it is frequently re-
tTred'to dWingufsh^par.s within th. whole. If one wishee to distinguish subp^ts
within a part. thVparts of the whole should also have more than zero
boundary of a one-dimensional region is usually equivalent to a of di«rete
points ^is is an adequate representation for most pychological boundanes. In
Addition, one-dimensional regions are not very satisfactory for representing the
forces corresponding to tension.
Appendix
309
Figure 57. Degree of independence of regions in a whole containing natural
subparts* 'Hic graph refers to the whole represented in Figure 55. It indicates the
degree of independence {indep \ i,x |) of the regions 3, . from the region
/. This curve shows definite steps not found in Figure 56.
The difference between the whole in Figure 54 and 55 can be repre*
sentcd in a slightly different way by referring to the degree of inde¬
pendence of every two consecutive points in the sequence (indep | i, 2 j ;
indep | 2, 3 ] ; indep | 3, 4 | For Figure 54 a curve of the type
represented in Figure 58 will result; for Figure 55 a curve similar to
Figure 59. If the points i, 2, 3 , . . are properly chosen the heights of
the peaks indicate the degree of independence of one cell from a neigh¬
boring cell (for instance, indep [ 3, 4 | = indep | r', r" | ). This value may
be called the "strength of the boundary” bo (c\ c>>). (The height of the
peaks in Figure 59 does not need to be the same as the height of the
corresponding jumps in Figure 57.)
A third and probably the most satisfactory way to indicate natural parts
mathematically is the following. If within a whole the regions a, b, . . .
can be distinguished in such a way that the independence of any two sub-
regions 1, 2, within each of these regions (i®, 2®), is less than a value k
ut the independence of any subregions belonging to different regions
(i®, I**, . . . ) is larger than k (indep [ 7®, 2® | and indep \ I'^y \ '> k)
310
’Field Theory in Social Science
Figure 58. Degree of independence of neighboring regions in a whole without
natural subparts. The graph refers to the whole represented iri Figure 54. It indi¬
cates the degree of independence {indep \x, x-4-r|) of a region x along the line
from the next region (x + r).
fcl M *9 --
PAIRS OF tsetOHBORlHCr RE&IONS (X,Atl) UNLl.
tilt
Figure 59. Degree of independence of neighboring regions in a whole “"'"o-
■ ^ ,1 The eraoh refers to the whole represented in Figure 55 - «
indic"les^the degree of independence (rWep \x, x+r|) of a region *
:"ne”Jrm the nit region (x+r). The peaks on the cuire correspond to boon-
daries between the natural cells (c*, r=, - . •) of the whole.
the regions b _are "natural parts" or "cells" (cj of the whole (Wf'J.
(17) The degree of differentiation of the whole (dtp j IT j; is the ma«-
Lm number^f cells (x. y. . . .) into which IF can be divided so that
"”1rhe*^ma*ematical aspect of these considerations may need t«‘^hnical im¬
provement. However, they suffice to characterize the relations which we
have in mind and to make certain derivations possible.
M S
u
o
I B
s
•I J
.a aj
So
•C -2
C 9
S 0«
O, C
V .2
•T3 iiO
C 2
4 > 4 >
rS-^
:§ 8
•1=
e 8
• 3.5
1^.
(« K
o c
«, «
«>
«./
V)
e
2;
a B
S o
S‘JS
9 V)
ut
-a Si
fti 3
5 ^
• c
>3 *1 c
C 2
ar-
S'" »
s a
S 5
3II
bo (c,n)=
312 Vield Theory in Social Science
Appendix
313
The Relativity of Differentiation and the Macroscopic and Microscopic
Functional Levels. The degree of inde|>endeace of a cell c from a neigh¬
boring cell n within a whole, or as we say, the strength of its functional
boundary (bo | f, « | z= indep \ c, n \ J can vary widely from whole to
whole and within the same whole. One may distinguish three cases in
regard to the different boundaries within a whole: (a) all boundaries are
equally strong; (b) a few definite degrees of strength can be distin¬
guished; and (c) all show a great variety of strength. Using the same
principle of representation as in Figure 59, we can illustrate the three
cases by Figures 60, 61, and 62.
rniese cases help to demonstrate the relativity of the concept of differen¬
tiation. It is characteristic for a cell that its subregions are independent
to a degree less than a relatively small value Jk. Relative to a macroscopic
view certain values of k may be "small” but in relation to a microscopic
detailed analysis these values may not be small. In other words, whether
or not two subregions belong to the same cell depends on the value k.
For a macroscopic view, a value of h which is greater than m Figure 61
might still be small. For r > ^ > ot only three cells would be distinguish¬
able. Whereas for a microscopic view (k < ui) sixteen cells would be dis¬
tinguishable.
From this it follows that the degree of differentiation is a decreasing
unction k. (10) dif^(\^) ~ F(s/k) where F means an increasing
an example, however, where the degree of differen¬
tiation does not necessarily decrease continuously with increasing k. The
degree of differentiation of the whole remains the same for all values of k
below w. It decreases suddenly when k changes from a value below tv to
a value above w. The degree of differentiation again remains constant for
va ues ^ above w but below m, but it drops again for a change of ^ to a
value just above m, and finally remains the same for a value k^m but
words, a change in k affects the degree of differentiation
f // I W I ) only if k passes the value characteristic of the boundary
strength of the cells. These given boundary values, bo(c, n) z= indep(c, n)
determine what might be called the "natural microscopic” and "natural
macroscopic” view of the whole.
The example represented in Figure 60 shows nine cells for k<rbo (c, n).
However, for bo(c, n) the whole has to be called undifferentiated
(see later).
One ^thc implications of the definition of differentiation is shown in Fig-
ceHs boundary (bo \c,n\) is assumed to be the same for all
cells. In this case d,p(W) = 2a for k.<bo(c.n). If k increases so that k>bo(c.n)
314 Field Theory in Social Science
changes smaller than w fifteen cells can be distinguished.
Appendix 315
the whole becomes undifferentiated according to the definition because there are
no regions in W which fulfill the requirements for a cell.
It is possible, however, to find seven regions in W. whose independence
if bo l(^'>zbo(c,n) if one refers to regions which are not neighbors.
With a slightly less rigid definidon of cell, one can say that dif^(lV)= 7. The
implications of such a definition have not been explored, but it may be that this
definition will eventually prove to be superior. At the present time the experi.
mental implications of the two definitions arc alike.
Figure 63. Degree of Differentiation as a Function of i. The figure at the left
represents a whole containing 22 cells = 22), if the value of k is
below that corresponding to the strength of the boundary {bo\c,n\) between these
cells. If ^ and at the same time k < 2bo{c,n), 7 cells, i, 3, 10, 12, 14, 17,
at can distinguished. If k is further increased so that 2bo{c.n) < k d ibo{c,n)
(the rig^ht-hand figure) the number of separated cells decreases to 3 (2, 17, 20);
I.C., dif (W') =3. In the first case the diameter dra(W') =5, equivalent to the
maximum distance between any two cells, for instance, e,.*; in the second case
«^«(ir)=2, equivalent to e'l.n; in the third case equivalent to
e a.«> (see p. 321).
In Figure 62 the degree of differentiation decreases whenever k super¬
sedes the next higher value of bo(c, n)\ that is, the decrease is relatively
continuous with increasing k.
Psychologically the person is a whole which probably has the character
indicated by Figure 6r, or 62.
These considerations may be instrumental for settling an old dispute.
Many psychologists and philosophers have held that it is an entirely arbi-
^ary matter as to how many parts may be distinguished within a whole.
Other psychologists hold the opposite view. Our analysis indicates that
both views are correct to a certain degree. The number of parts in a whole
can be determined only in regard to a certain value k and this value can
3i6 Field Theory in Social Science
be arbitrarily defined. However, given this value, the number of cells
are dependent on the strength of the boundary of the natural parts of the
whole. What is even more important, the degree of differentiation of the
whole changes only with certain values of k. These values depend entirely
on the strength of the boundaries of the cells which are not arbitrarily
determined.
B. THE SIMPLE UNITY AND THE DEGREE OF DIFFERENTIATION OF A WHOLE
The Definition of the Degree of Simple Unity of a Whole and the
Concept of Natural Wholes. One can define the degree of simple unity
of a whole (si uni \ W \ ), that is a unity based on simple dependence as
Figure 64. Degree of unity of natural wholes. The whole W' includes the
regions A and B. A includes a, b, d.
characterized above, in the following way. We are comparing the degree
of dependence for every pair of regions x and y \ci W and define:
(”)
X and y are any
equivalent to
(iia)
si uni (W) = dep”'^^ (x, y)
two regions of W. From (14) it follows that (ii)
„• urn (W) = y)
For a eiven whole the value of indep’^ (x, y) may be indicated by Ch.
From (II) it follows that if any part of a whole is changed by an amount
greater than Ch every part of the whole will be affected.
(iib) If ch(x)>Ch then rh(y)>€\ x and y are any two cells in W.
The definition of unity of a whole has the following implication. A
whole W may be arbitrarily determined as the totahty of the regions
Appendix 317
A and B in Figure 64. A may be composed of the highly interdepend*
ent regions, a, b, and d\ intefdep(a, b) i.oo\ interdep(a, d) = zoo\
wterdep(b,d) ^ xoo. The interdependence of B and a (or any part
of A') however, may be low; for example, interdep(B, a) =z= 2. In this
case the degree of unity of W is also low: si uni (W ) = dep”^^^ x, y = 2.
A second whole W” may be determined as the totality of the regions
A, B, C, and D, Figure 65. The interdependence of these regions with
each other may also equal 2. In this case si uni (W”) — 2. In other words,
the degree of simple unity of W* and W*' are equal. Of course, if one
eliminates the region B in (Figure 64), the simple unity of the rest (A)
Figure 65. Degree of unity of natural wholes. The whole W" includes
the region a. b, d, c.
would be much higher (// uni | | = 100); whereas the elimination of
the region B in W" (Figure 65) would leave the degree of unity of the
rest (A, C, D) unchanged (j/ uni \A,C,D \ =2).
The wholes IP'' and IP"' are examples of arbitrarily determined wholes.
It would be more adequate to speak in the case of IP" of two wholes
(A and B) and in case IP"' of four wholes. One can define ''natural
wholes” in the following way.
(18) IP' is called a natural whole if dep(x, y)dep(x, z) where
X and y refer to any two regions within IP' f'x c 1 ^^/ y => IP'^ and z to
any region outside IP' (Z^W— o).
In other words, the degree of dependence between any parts within a
natural whole is greater than between any part and a region outside the
whole.
318
Field Theory in Social Science
9 ceus: 1^***^
Figure 66 . Degree of independence of cells of a natural whole from each other
and from the outside.
From this it follows that the boundary of a natural whole W, and the
outside Ou is stronger than the boundary around any arbitrary subpart
p of W:
(i8a) bo(W, Ou) > bo(p, n) where
bo(p,n) separates p from the rest of W.
Returning to wholes composed of natural cells we may state as a conse¬
quence from formula (lo):
(19) For a natural whole, a value k can be determined so that reladve
to this k the whole W is undifferentiated. In other words it is possible
to view a natural whole as one cell. (19) is equivalent to the statement
Appendix 319
(19a) bo(Wt Ou) >bo(c, n) where bo(c, n) separates any cell c from
the rest of W.
The statement (19) follows from (18) but demands less than (18).
For instance, the whole indicated in Figure 66 has outer boundaries whi^
are stronger than any inner boundaries (indep | W, Ou \ '^indep \ c, n \).
Therefore, k can easily be determined so that (19a) is fulfilled. Neverthe¬
less, the sum of the strengths of the various inner boundaries may make
the cells i and 9 less dependent of each other than the cell 9 from the
outside (dep | i, 9 | < dep | 9, Ou \J. In this case the whole could not be
called a natural whole according to (18). £It is, however, possible to use
the less demanding proposition (19a) as the definition of a natural whole.
We will not discuss here the merits of such a possibility.]]
The statements (18) and (19) show that the wholes indicated in Fig¬
ures 60, 61, and 62 are not natural wholes. The example represented in
Figure 60 can be said to be composed of nine natural wholes. The exam¬
ple Figure 62 is not one natural whole but can be thought of as three
natural wholes.
In summary we may say: a high degree of independence from the out¬
side is as essential for a natural whole as is the high dependence of the
various parts within the whole.
Tbe Relation between the Degree of Unity and Differentiation of a
Whole. Unless it is stated differently the following discussion is limited
to natural wholes where:
1. The degree of independence of each cell from its neighbor (n) is
the same for all cells (x) within the whole (indep | x, n |= const).
2, The independence of the subregions within the same cell is prac¬
tically zero.
3 * The cells have the same dynamic properties; (particularly ch (n)
resulting from a ch (x) is equal for all neighbors).
4. The dependence is based on a process of spreading (simple de¬
pendence).
Under this condition the degree of unity of a whole depends mainly on
two factors. Everything else being equal, the degree of unity is smaller,
the greater the independence of neighboring cells. For if indep(c,n) is
greater indep^'^fx, y) is greater.
The second factor is related to the number and relative position of the
cells. Figures 13, p. 121 illustrates the fact that two wholes W' and W" may
have the same degree of unity [uni(W') = unifW'^) = indep(c, nx)
w ere ;; -j- i refers to a cell ■which is separated by two boundaries (two
3^0 Field Theory in Social Science
steps) from c"}, in spite of a great difference in the number of cells
[dif = 5 dif for Jk < hofc ,»;].
Tlie whole W'*' (Figure 67) has the same number of cells as W" (Fig*
ure 13) (Jif * I W' j = dif | | J. However, the degree of unity of
IF'" is definitely smaller than that of IF' \uni(W**) <iuni (W*) ^
dep(c, «+ j)'\. This will be understood readily if we go ba^ to the
definition of independence of cells and unity of a whole. The degree of
independence of c from neighbor n (indep j c, n j J was defined as the
maximum change of n \ ^ \ J which would change c less than a
small amount e. In case of natural cells we called this amount of change
w"'
Figure 67. Differentiation, structure, and unity of a whole. The whole W "’
has the same degree of differentiation as the whole W represented in Figure 13
(Chapter 5); =dif*(W) =6. However, IT' has a higher degree of
unity because = i for IF', ” 5 for IF"'.
bo(c, n). If the state of the cell i in Figure 67 was changed to this de¬
gree, this would not affect the state of the cell 3. For to affect the state
of 3, the state of cell 2 would have to be changed at least to the amount
ch^(n) = indep (3, 2^ = bo(c, n). Whether a change of cell i to the
amount 2 bo(c, n) would suffice to affect cell 3 cannot be stated. How¬
ever, we can say that the change of cell i must be large enough to induce
in cell 2 a change equal to or greater than indep (3, 2) before cell 3 will \x
affected and this change of cell i will be indep('^^ x) >■ bo(c, n). A still
greater change of i is required to affect the cells 4, 5, or 6 . In other words
the dependence of a cell of IF'" from cell i (dep \i,y\) is smaller as
more cells lie between i and y. As the degree of unity of a whole is the
degree of dependence of the least dependent cells, it follows that uni (IF'";
= dep(T. 6 )<dep(T,^) = uni (W^).
This consideration may suffice to demonstrate that under the conditions
mentioned above the degree of dependence of any two cells x and 7 of a whole
depends upon the minimum number of boundaries crossed by a paOi from
one of these cells to the other. This is equivalent to what in "hodological
space” is called, the "distance" (e,. y) between x and y. (For example m
the left-hand diagram of Figure 63 the distance of the cell i and 3
Appendix 321
equals 2, ^'^i. 3 = 2 -^ : ^1. 22 = 5 ; ^e. i4 = 5 -) In other words indep(x, y
^F\eg^y \ ) where F means a monotonous, increasing function.
We will call the "diameter” of •< (dia \ }!F' \ ).
(20) dia(W) = ; where x c W and y c.W
From (iia) it follows that si unt(W) = Ff i/dia \l^ \ J for a given value
of indep(c, n).
If we take both the number and position of cells in the whole and the
strength of the boundaries of the cells into account we can say that the
degree of unity of the whole increases with the dependence of neighbor¬
ing cells and decreases with its diameter.
Figure 68. Boundary forces and resultant boundary forces, n, c, are neighbor¬
ing celjs of the whole; bfn.a and bfe.n are forces acting on the boundary between e
and » in the direction toward c or toward n respectively. In the left-hand diagram,
the opposing boundary forces are equal in strength, in the right-hand diagram they
differ.
(12) si uni (W) = F f - -^- ) —
\bo(c,n), —
r dep(c, n)
dia (W)
This formula indicates that the unity of a whole does not depend directly
on its degree of differentiation but on its "structure” (number and posi¬
tion of cells).
Boundary Forces, Differentiation, and Unity of a Whole. The degree of
independence of cells has been defined in terms of a certain amount of
change. If this change is a change of tension (and probably also if we
have to do with any other kind of change) the degree of independence
can ^ correlated to the strength of forces on the boundary of one cell
which will not affect the state of another cell. More precisely, let us
assume that there is a state of equilibrium, i.e., the forces at the boundary
of neighboring cells bf,. „ and bf„ ,. are equal and opposite (Figure 68,
322 Field Theory in Social Science
left-hand diagram). A decrease in the forces bfc, n (Figure 68, right-hand
diagram) will aifect the state of c as soon as the difference | «| —
I i^fe, n I which we may call the resultant boundary force bf*^, c reaches a
certain value. This value of bf*n, o will be the greater the greater the in¬
dependence of these cells (indep \ c, n \ ). The definition of independence
of neighboring cells may therefore be expressed by^
(13a) indep(c,n) = bf*’^ for which cb(c) < e
The present strength of the resultant boundary force may be indicated
by bf*. It is obvious that certain values of bf* in formula 13a are equiv¬
alent to certain values of k in formula (17). It follows, therefore, from
(10) that:
(loa)
dif^f*(W) = F
That is, cells which are independent in regard to weak boundary forces
are not necessarily independent relative to strong forces. The amount of
increase which is necessary to dedifferentiate (W) depends upon the
strength of the boundary (bo \ c, n \ ) oi the cells in W.
The decrease in the degree of differentiation of a whole with increasing
resultant boundary forces usually occurs in steps, similar to the effect
of the variation of k.
In the case of the whole represented in Figure 61 there will be a value
of bf*n. c which corresponds to each value of indep(n, c). Let us assume
that indep(n, c) = tv corresponds to a value of bj*n.c — '^->
indep(n, c) m corresponds to bf^n. c = indep(n, ^
corresponds to bf*n c = Then <///*»/*= 16 if bf*n,e<^- “
tv* < bf*„ c < then difl*(W) = 8 and finally if m' < bf*„, c < r
These examples may suffice to illustrate the following point: Suppose
it is necessary, for some reason or other, to keep parts within a whole
(e.g., an organism) independent of each other. The number of such
independent parts depends on the difference in tension (the strength of
the resultant boundary forces) relative to which the cells should be in-
dependent and the position of the regions in tension. How the degree of
differentiation of a given whole decreases with increasing forces depends
on the strength and the position of the boundaries of the natural cells
within the whole. However, it is always possible to determine a strength
* In physics the value for is frequently independent of the absolute tension
level. We cannot assume this to hold always. We refer therefore to a certain begin¬
ning level of bf*n.f
Appendix 323
of a resultant boundary force relative to which a natural whole is to be
regarded as undifferentiated, and a certain strength relative to which the
whole cannot be treated as a natural whole.®
The implications of these considerations become clearer when we dis¬
cuss the relation between variability and differentiation (p. 328).
C. STRATIFICATION OF A WHOLE
^C^e will limit our discussion to natural wholes where all boundaries
have the same strength.
It is possible to distinguish certain groups of cells within a whole on
the basis of their functional similarities. These more inclusive subparts
of the whole can be called "layers.” The "degree of stratification of a
whole (stra \yv \ ) can be defined as the number of its layers.
Central arid Peripheral Regions. can distinguish cells of different
degrees of centrality" (centlc\J by considering the maximum hodo-
logical distance e*^ of a cell c from any other cell y in a whole W.
(21a) If — dia(W) then c is a peripheral cell. Its degree of
centrality is zero (cent | c [ = o). Or more generally:
(21) If e^^ — dia (W) — m then the degree of centrality of c is
m (cent \ c\ -= m).
In this way we can distinguish cells of the first, second, third . . . degree
o centrality. Cells of the highest degree of centrality within a whole can
be called "most central" cells.
The totality (topological sum) of cells for which the degree of cen¬
trality is m can be called the central layer” (m cen lay).
(22) /rfy := totality of cells for which cent(c)=m. The
layer containing the cells cent(c) = o is called the peripheral layer.
The degree of "centrality stratification" of a whole (cen stra \W\} is
^e greater than the highest degree of centrality of any one of its cells.
IS efinition makes the degree of centrality stratification equal to the
number of strata.
(23)
cen stra (W) = (centr^^ \c\^ x)
U degree of unity (urTi\W^\) is a function of these forces,
orrc that the diameter dia(W) changes with hf* or k. However it seems to
hold that unii'ty'i — Fi dep{c,n) \_ . .w, .
' ' — diaiwY )— ® given natural XT whatever the
value of bj* or k, relative to which the cell within W is defined.
324 Field Theory in Social Science
One may raise the question of the relation between the diameter of a
whole and the highest degree of centrality of its cells. For example, is a
central layer always a connected region? We cannot attempt a detailed
discussion of these questions here. However a few examples may be
welcomed as illustrations.
Figure 69, left-hand diagram represents a whole containing twelve cells,
which are all peripheral. The degree of centrality stratification is one. The
same holds true for the whole represented in the right-hand diagram. Cell
I and cell 2 are peripheral in spite of the fact that cell i is surrounded
by cell 2.
Figure 69. Degree of centrality. The diagram at the left represents a whole
containing 12 peripheral cells; dij (ITJ =112; cent (x) =1 const = o, cen stra
(IT) = i; inn stra (IT) = x. The diagram at the right represents a whole con¬
taining 2 peripheral cells, one of them being an inner cell; dij
—cent (2) = o; few stra (W) = % \inn (i) = i; inn (2) = 2; /»« stra (W) - 2.
Figure 70, left-hand diagram represents a whole containing nineteen
cells Cen stra The most central layer contains but two cells,
namely cells 7 and 15. This is an example of a not connected central layer.
If one changes the boundary of ceU 3 slightly as indicated in Fi^e 70,
the most central layer contains only cell 7. The functional difference
between cells belonging to layers of various degrees of centrality may ^
indicated as follows: A most central cell (for instance cell 7) will be
affected if in any cell the resultant boundary force bj* takes on the value
bj* > bj*^‘ ; a cell of the first degree of centrality (for instance ceU
2) is affectedTf in any cell bj* > : a peripheral cell (for instance
cell 4) is affected if in any cell bj* > In other words, the more
Appendix 325
central a cell, the easier it is affected by changes within the whole; and
the more easily a change in this cell affects all other cells of the whole.
Inner and Outer Layer. We define inner and outer layers by considering
the hodological distance Cc, ou of a cell c from the region fOu) outside
the whole.
We will speak of an inner cell of the degree m:
Figure 70. Stratified wholes. The diagram at the left shows a stratified whole in
which dif (W) = 19; dia = 4; stra (JT) s= 3; inn stra (W) = 3.
The peripheral layer contains the cells, i, 4, 10, 11, 12, 16, 19; the first
central layer =3) contains the cells 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 13, 14, 17, 18; the second
central layer (e*" = 2 ) contains the cells 7, 15. The outer layer (Ce. •..1 = 1) contains
the cells 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, ii, 12, 16, 17, 18, 19; the first inner layer (e*. ..i = 2)
contains the cells 5, 7, 9, 15; the second inner layer (e*. = 3) contains the cells
*3. *4- The diagram at the right illustrates the effect of the change of one
cell upon the position of other cells of a whole. The change of the boundary be¬
tween cell 5 and cell 7 eliminates cell 15 from the most central layer which contains
now only cell 7.
(24) inn (c) =m, if ou) — i
If — 1 = 0, r is called an "outer” cell. The totality of outer
cells is the ''outer layer" of the whole.
(25) inn /<*>- = totality of cells for which inn(c)=m. The
egree of inner stratification” of a whole corresponds to the number of
layers.
(26)
inn stra (W') = (inn”^ [ c j ^ 1
326 Field Theory in Social Science
As an example we may discuss again Figures 69 and 70. For the whole
at the left in Figure 69, inn stra (If^) = x; it contains only an outer
layer. The whole represented at the right contains an outer and a first
inner layer: inn stra (W) = 2, although cen stra (W) z=ix as we have
seen above.
The whole represented at the left in Figure 70 shows the same number
of central as of inner layers: inn stra (W) = cen stra (W ^ = 3. However,
the three layers are composed of very different cells in the two kinds of
stratification. For instance cent (cell 7) = 2, inn (cell 7) = !; cent
(cell 2) = I, inn (cell 2) = o. The change of cell 3 in Figure 70 changes
the number of cells belonging to the most central layer. However, it does
not change the ’’belongingness” of any cell to the outer or inner layers of
the various degrees.
The functional difference between cells belonging to different inner
layers can be illustrated as follows: A cell of the outer layer is affected as
soon as the resultant force on the boundary of the whole is greater than
^ stronger force from outside is necessary to affect a cell of the
first inner layer, and a still stronger force to affect the most inner layer.
As a summary of the difference between a stratification into central and
peripheral layers and the stratification into inner and outer layers one can
say that the degree of centrality of a cell determines how easily the cell
will be affected by changes anywhere inside the whole and how easily a
change in this cell will affect the rest of the whole. The position of a
cell in a certain inner layer determines how easily a cell will be affected
by changes outside the whole and how easily a change in this cell will
affect the outside.
D. VARIETY OF PATTERNS WHICH CAN BE REALIZED IN A WHOLE
Homogeneity and Heterogeneity of a Whole. The actual state (quality)
of two cells ^ and b can be equal ls(a)^s(b)-\ even if both cells are
highly independent. However, the maximum degree of dissimilarity of two
cells depends upon their degree of independence.
(27) I s(a) — s(b) 1 "" = P{indep (a, b)']
One may define inhomogeneity of a whole | | ^ as the
greatest difference of the state of any cells within W [other definitions
would be possible].
(28) inhom(W) = I s(x) — s(y) | at a given time
This implies that inhom(V') = o if all cells are in the same state.
Homogeneity can be defined:
Appendix
327
Figure 71. Variety of Patterns and De^ee of Differentiation.
(29)
hom(W) =
X
inhom(W)
A whole which is highly differentiated and stratiAed may still be fully
• other words, it holds true for any kind of whole that
/« =0. The maximum inhomogeneity of different wholes,
however, can be different.
We limit the discussion again to a natural whole with a constant degree
o independence of neighboring cells within the whole, and to a certain
absolute range of states.
From (28) and (27) follows
328 Field Theory in Social Science
(30) inhom ”*^(W) = F(indep {x, y \ J
From (30) together with (na) and (12) follows
(30a) w/,am = F Fldia (W), bo(c. n)^
In other words the maximum inhomogeneity of a whole is a function
of its diameter and the strength of the inner boundaries. It is an inverse
function of the degree of unity of the whole.
The Variety of Patterns. A whole A may contain three cells (a, h,d)
as indicated in Figure 64; the maximum difference between the states of
two neighboring cells may be g. If the state of one cell equals u (s\a\z=.u)
the state of the other cells can also equal u fs\ b \ = u; s j d I aj; or
one or both of these two cells may have any state between u and u ^ g
(u — g — r b\^u g; u — g^s\d\^u g). The number of dif¬
ferent conste lations of states of the various cells which can be realized
within a whole may be called the variety of pattern (var j W \ J in W.
The variety of pattern depends upon the maximum difference of any
two cells within a whole, i.e., the maximum degree of inhomogeneity (30).
According to (30a) this depends on the diameter and the strength of the
inner boundaries of the whole f't'ar \ W \ ) = F \ inhom [ =
F{dia (W), bo (c, n)'\. However, given the same strength of the inner
boundaries and the same diameter and degree of stratification, the variety
may still be different if the degree of differentiation is not the same. For
instance, for the wholes A and B represented in Figure 71 it holds:
dia(A) =dia(B) = 2; cen stra(A) = cen stra(B) =2; inn stra(A) =
inn stra(B) = 2. bo(c, n)^ = bo(c, n)^. To simplify the discussion we
may allow only two states of a cell, indicated by and 52- A glance at
the variation (i), (2) and (3) shown in Figure 71 makes it clear *at
var(B) > var(A) in spite of the equality of the factors mentioned. This
means that the degree of differentiation is an important factor for the
variety of possible patterns.
(31) var(W) = F[dia (W), dif^ (W), bo(c, where k < bo(c, n)
The Variety of Pattern of an Organic Whole and the Effect of Keeping
Certain Farts Constant. It is possible to treat the problem of the variety
of patterns in a somewhat more concrete way. if we take into co^ide^hon
that the degree of change within an organism is definitely limited. If this
state deviates too much from the normal state the living cell will die.
Using a scale of nine points we can indicate by +4 and —4 the upper
and lower maxima, by o the normal state. To simplify the discussion we
Appendix 329
not consider continuous changes but only states corresponding to the
nine points of the scale.
Let us discuss the variety of possible patterns within a simple whole
:orresponding to Figure 67. The maximum difference between the states
of neighboring cells may be constant and equal to one point of our scale
The totality of possible constellations under
these circumstances is parCU^J = —(2*3<-|-4-43 -j- 6-32 + 8*3
+ 10) =1829. Figure 72 represents these possibilities graphically by the
totality of curves progressing continuously from left to right.
If for one reason or another cell i is kept on the normal level o the
number of possible patterns (Figure 73, upper figure) decreases to
— 2 = 241. If cell I is kept on the level =*=1, ±2, ±3, or ^4
respectively, the variety of pattern decreases to 239, 230, 203 or 122®
respectively (see Figures 73 and 74).
Figure 72. Variety of possible patterns if parts of the whole are kept constant
This hgure shows the variety of possible patterns in a whole corresponding to that
in Figure 67; par (W) — 1829.
In other words, the more the state of the cell which is kept on a
constant level deviates from normal (o) the smaller is the variety of
possible patterns. The decrease of this variety corresponding to a change
from one level to the next is greater the more this level approaches the
extreme.
If two cells are kept at a constant level the variety of pattern is still
•The general formula for a whole with this simple structure, in case cell i is
kept constant is: t'ar = 3""*^—(s’***"'”® 4 -S**^"*"*. +3*) _
3 ■* H- • • • 4- 3*). where n = number of cells, ±a — difference of the state
ot cell 1 from "normal,’* and I =. the greatest possible difference of the state of a cell
from normal.
330
Field Theory in Social Science
5TATE OF CELL
EXTREME +4
OIVER.C»ENCe
rnon NORMAL
NORMAL 0
EXTREME
OtVER&ENCE .A
FROM NORMAL (2 3 4 5
CELL
VARfErY OF PATTERNS tF CELL »1 IS KEPT ON THE NORMAL LEVEL.
THE NUMBER OF DIFFERENT PATTERNS (VAR(W)) IS 241.
STATE OF CELL
EXTREME
DIVERGENCE
FROM NORNALtJ
NORMAL o
EjCTREME -5
Divergence
FROM NORfW.
I 2 5 '
VARIETY OF PATTERNS IF CELL«=1 IS KEPT ON A LEVEL WLMNELY CLOSE
TONORMAL. THE NUMBER OF DIFFERENT PATTERNS (VARflbJ)) IS 2S9.
Figure 73. The effect on the variety of possible patterns of restricting the level
of cell I to two different levels.
Appendix
331
STATE OF CELU
EXTREME t 1
DlVER&eNCE
FROM NORMAV
NORMRl.
extreme *3
DIvCRG-eNCE
FROM NORMRl.
12 . 3 4 5 6
ceuL
VARtCTX OF PATTERNS \F CEUtm tS KEPT ON A LEVEL RELATIVELY
Close TOTHeEXTwne. the numberop different pattbrns
cvarCw)) is 203.
STATE OF CELL
EXTREME ^4
DWEROENCE
FROM NORMAL t 3
normal
EXTREME -5
DIVERGENCE
from normal-4
I X 3 4 jr
CELL
VRSWETY OF PATTERNS IF CELL 1F1 IS KEPT ON AN EXTREflE
LEVEL the number OF DIFFERENT PATTERNS (VAR(W) IS IZZ
Figure 74. A further illustration of the effect on the variety of possible patterns
of restricting the level of cell z to two different levels.
332 Field Theory in Social Science
Appendix 333
more diminished. For instance, if cells i and 4 are kept on the normal
level (Figure 75) the variety of patterns decreases to 63. If cell i and 4
are kept on level ±4 the variety decreases to 20 from the original
varfWJ = 1829 when no cell is kept constant.
It has been indicated that the state of the rest of a whole depends
more on a central than on a peripheral cell. One may expect therefore
that the variety of patterns should decrease more if a central cell rather
than a peripheral cell is kept at a given level. This is, however, not always
correct. For instance, it does not hold for the simple structure of Figure
67. Cell 4 is more central than cell i. However, if cell 4 is kept constant
on the normal level, O, the variety of remaining patterns is the same,
namely 243, as if the peripheral cell 1 is kept on this level.
Nevertheless, it ordinarily holds for the more complicated wholes that
the variety of pattern is more diminished if a central rather than a
peripheral cell is kept at a level sufficiently different from the normal.
These examples indicate that the variety of pattern decreases with the
number of cells kept in a given state, with the increasing distance from
the normal state, and usually with the increasing degree of centrality of
the cells kept at an extreme level. A more detailed mathematical analysis
of wholes showing various structures and degree of differentiation is
needed before general statements concerning the conditions for the reduc¬
tion in variability can be made. This problem should be of prime importance
for psychology, biology, and also for the study of the variability of various
social groups.
E. VARIETY OF PATTERN AND REGRESSION
If a decrease in variety of behavior is a symptom of regression and if
the variety of behavior presupposes a variety of pattern realizable in a
w o e. It is possible now to state certain conditions under which regression
should occur.
I. Any fixation of a sufficiently large part of the whole to a constant
state should lead to regression.
This decrease of variety should, however, be very slight if only one
^rip eral cell is held on a normal level. If the whole referred to in
I-ipre 67 would contain twenty instead of six cells, the fixation of cell
a normal level would be practically without significance for var(W').
r- \ ^ greater the more cells are kept constant, the more
en ra e cells are, and the more the state of the cells are removed from
mat of normality.
Situations where certain parts of the person are kept in a constant state
. mquently. For instance, a need which is not satisfied corresponds
a re ative y constant state of tension of certain innerpersonal systems.
334
Field Theory in Social Science
Pressure from the environment may keep the individual or part of him
in a certain state of tension. Certain manipulations, which the person is
supposed to carry out, frequently require that certain parts of the in¬
dividual be kept within a definite range of states.
All or at least most of the situations in which the person is awake
require that the state of a more or less extended part of the person be
kept within a limited range. (In some respects this probably holds least
during sleep.) However, such situations cannot be called "regression"
because the person actually has never shown a higher developmental
state. However, if such outside requirements are very extended, if for
instance, the individual is kept busy day after day with certain routine
tasks which occupy a considerable part of him (i.e., keeps that part within
a definite state or sequence) he may show certain signs of regression.
Nevertheless, this regression will be relatively small as long as these
occupied areas are not too extensive, as long as only peripheral layers are
affected, and if the degree of independence of neighboring cells (strength
of inner boundaries) is sufficient.
This conclusion from our formulae is surprisingly well in line with
the experiments on psychological satiation. Satiation may occur in a
situation in which the same activity is repeated over and over again, that
is where certain areas of the person are kept in a more or less constant
state. The outstanding symptoms of oversatiation may well be called
typical cases of regression. For instance, the larger units dedifferentiate
into smaller and smaller parts. The experiments show that if the activity
is kept sufficiently peripheral no satiation may occur. Both agreeable and
disagreeable activities are more rapidly satiated than neutral ones. Indeed,
in both cases, more central areas are touched and therefore larger areas
of the person are kept in a fixed state. Anything else which increases
centrality seems to speed up satiation. The velocity of satiation is greater
in children; indeed they are less differentiated and the cells are less
independent. Feeble-minded persons whp show greater independence of
neighboring cells (measured by co-satiation and other symptoms) show
a slower satiation than younger children of the same degree of differentia¬
tion (see Chapter lo).
From our previous discussions we would expect that an increase in
emotional tension should lead to marked regression when the tension
has reached a certain level. This is the theory advanced m a previous
investigation by DemboT a theory which is well m line with the experi¬
ments and the results of the present study.
TDembo, T.: Der Arger als dynamisches Problem, Vsychol. Forsch., 1931. O
Ix6-X20.
Appendix 335
2. We should expect regression if the strength of the boundary decreases.
An example may be fatigue, which, according to Zeigarnik corresponds
to a more fluid state in which the person is unable to build or to preserve
systems in tension. (A similar inability to keep tension has been observed
in schizophrenic patients if peripheral activities are carried through.)
Of course in all of these cases other factors play a role in addition to
the variety of patterns.
3. It should be noticed that the limitation of variation of patterns is
based on two rather distinct groups of factors. One group has to do with
the degree of diflferentiation, the diameter of the whole, and the strength
of the boundaries of the cells. The second group deals with the scope of
states which a cell may have without dying.
Both factors should be clearly distinguished particularly in view of
certain developmental trends. In regard to the first factor (differentiation,
boundary strength, etc.) adults show definitely greater variability than
the child. In regard to the second factor, however, indications point to the
fact that the cells of the young organism can differ more widely from
the normal state without being destroyed and that the younger person
therefore shows greater variability. Our examples indicate that a greater
tolerance for deviations from the normal would have to be very outstand*
irrg (much greater than it actually seems to be) if it should counteract
the increase in the variety of pattern resulting from the greater differentia*
tion of the more mature person, its stratification and the greater strength
of the boundaries of his cells.
2. Organizational Dependence and Organizational
Unity of a Whole
We will limit the discussion of organizational dependence and unity
to a few general considerations.
A. ORGANIZATIONAL DEPENDENCE
It does not seem to be possible to define the degree of "organizational
defwridence ' or independence of two regions a and b in the same way
as "simple dependence,” namely, by referring to the amount of change
which is necessary in one region to change the other region. For organiza¬
tional dependence the important characteristic of a is its power to induce
a change of state in b and this power seems to have no direct relation to
the arnount of change in a necessary to influence b. One can define the
organizational dependence of a upon b (org dep \a, b \ J asthe maximum
change which can be induced by ^ in ^ (i^ch \ a |
33 ^ Theory in Social Science
(52)
erg dep (a, b) =
The difference between (32) and (13) expresses a difference between
simple and organizational dependence. For the former, but not for the
latter, there is a tendency for the states of dependent regions to be equal.
We have mentioned ^at a similar type of dependence exists in social
psychology. If we refer to induced forces rather than to induced changes,
we might dehne power of b over a (pow b/a) as the quotient of the
maximum force which b can induce on a the m a x imum
resistance (f——) which a can offer, (x indicates the region into which a
should locomote according to the will of b\ indicates a force in the
direction opposite to «,)
(33)
power (h/a) =
/ ma9
a, 9
If one makes the reasonable assumption that there is a close relation
between induced forces and induced changes (32) and (33) ^re probably
equivalent.
B. HEAD AND TOOL
Referring to dynamic wholes, we will call a leading region a
(h), and the led region a "tool" (to). We can define head and tool by
the following formula
(34)
pow (h/to) > pow (to/h)
The greater the value, pow (h/to), the easier it is for ^e ^
induce such changes of the tool as desired. Let us i
a tool containing many subregions. The ease w.th jhej^s of
the subregions to each other can be changed, depends upon the strm^
of the forces induced by the head in comparison to the of the
restraining forces acting on the tool opposite to the induced forces.
c. ORGANIZATIONAL UNITY
It seems possible to define the organizational unity of a whole
(org uni \W ; in the following way:
( 35 ) ofg uni (W) = pow (hh/W — hh)
In other words, the organizational unity of a whole is relied to
of the strongest head (hh) over the rest of the whole ((f'-hh). It may be
Appendix 337
that other factors should be added. However, formula (35) may well serve
as a first approximation.
If the whole is composed of cells all of which have the same power,
the organizational unity of the whole is small because the power of any
one cell c relative to the rest of the whole (power c/W-c) is small.
A simple case of high organizational unity is given if we have to deal
with a whole containing one strong head, the rest having but little power.
If the tool regions are very numerous the effective power of the head may
be greater if a number of subleaders (subheads, sh') can be employed.
If the whole contains two or more independent heads, the organiza>
tional unity of the whole may be considerably reduced. It is important,
of course, whether the two heads are "friends” or "enemies.” However,
the formula (35) is probably correct if one understands the "power of
the strongest head” to be the strength of the power field of the head
itself added to that of friends as far as they cooperate.
If we understand independent heads in this way, we can probably say
that
where n(h) means the number of
independent heads.
In other words, everything else being equal, the degree of organizational
unity of a whole is Inversely related to the number of independent heads.
Important individual differences seem to exist in the degree of organiza¬
tional unity of the person. In some individuals one, or a few needs seem
to be powerful enough to suppress the other needs. In this case a relatively
high general tension level may be expected. A rather different type of
unity of the person is achieved if a number of heads of relatively equal
powers are organized in a more "democratic" manner. In this case, the
hierarchical organization is topped by a group of heads combined into
one policy-determining part (H) of the whole. If this H is considered as
one region, the degree of unity of the whole is high, although no one
a -powerful cell exists in the whole. It may be that the more harmonious
and easy going persons show this type of inner organization.
D. ORGANIZATIONAL UNITY DURING DEVELOPMENT AND IN REGRESSION
D^elopment involves differentiation. If this should lead to a great
number of parts which have approximately the same power, the degree
of orpnizational unity should decrease according to (35). The emergence
of a head should increase the degree of organizational unity.
region differentiates again into two or more independent
heads h , each of these heads being powerful relatively to the tool
(36) org uni (W) :=
338 Field Theory in Social Science
regions, the value of pow (h^/W-h^) should decrease very considerably
and therefore according to (36) the degree of organizational unity should
also decrease. We have mentioned (Chapter 5) tlu^ the increase of dif¬
ferentiation of the central needs during development may well lead to a
decrease in the organizational unity of the person. If, however, the dif¬
ferentiation progresses so that one of the heads is predominant or in such
a way that a new higher head (hh) emerges which gives to the previous
heads the role of subheads, the degree of unity of the whole will increase
again in accordance with (35). In this case also the degree of hierarchical
organization of the whole is increasing.
Regression in the sense of disorganization should be. expected if the
number of opposing heads (needs) increases, because the organizational
unity of the whole should then decrease in line with (36)- The degree
of organizational unity also decreases somewhat if the tool region becomw
less auid. That may happen if the general tension level is too high, or if
the tools are governed simultaneously by conflicting forces.
Index
Abraham, K., 89
Ach, N., 5, 68, 84; concept of deter-
minierende Tendenz, 27, 66
Action, mass, 103
Ad hoc theory, 8
Adams, D. K., 68, 84, 239
Adaptation, 249
Adler, D. L., 276, 278, 297
Adolescence: aggressiveness in, 139;
behavior characteristics of, 98; change
in group belongingness, 137; change
in time-perspective, 140; conceptual
analysis of, 135; conflicts in. 141;
derivations of from conceptual an¬
alysis, 144; marginality in, 143; radi¬
calism in, 139; and sexual maturity,
139; summary statement of, 144; un¬
certainty of behavior, 138; as unstruc¬
tured regions, 137
Aggression, in democratic and autocratic
atmospheres, 207
Allport, F, H., 52
Allport, G. W., 128, 229, 236, 297
Altruism, 290
Analysis in held theory, 62
Anamnesis, 49
Anderson, C., 286, 297
Anderson, H. H., 249, 298
Anthropology, cultural, 163, 172
Approximation, method of, 2t
Archimedes, 193
Arsenian, J., 293, 298; (see also Mac¬
Donald)
Association: 2, 5, 7, 24, 66; execution
habits, 5; experiments on, 9; laws of,
20; need habits, 5; as restraining
forces, 5
Associationism, and teleology, 26
Atmosphere, psychological, 63
Atmosphere, social: 159; and individual
level of conduct, 212; as quasi-sta-
tionary equilibri um , 207
Aversion, as negative force 6eld, 40
Barker, R., xix, 35, 53, 84, 247 , 248,
267, 269, 270, 271, 298
Barriers: as force fleld, 40; as social
forces, 78; and threat of punishment,
78
Bartos, A., 298
Bavetas, A., 81, 84, 216, 221, 231, 232,
236, 251, 284, 290, 298
Behavior; as change in psychological
field, 48; complexity of units, 101;
complicated organization, 102; goal
directed, 27; hierarchical organization,
loi; unit of organization, 114
Behaviorism: 63, 67, 79; operational
definition, 61, 6a; and unity of sci¬
ence, 133
Benedict, R., 298
Bergmann, G., 84
Birenbaum, G., 128, 284, 298
Bridges, K. M., 128
Brooks, F, D., 84
Brown, J. F., 18, 298
Brown, S. F., 298
Brunswik, E.: 57, 58; role of statistics
in theory, 56
Bryan, W. L., 128
Biihler, C., 128, 298
Burks, B. S., 298
Buxton, C. E., 28, 84
Cameron, N., 128
Carmichael, L., xx
Cartwright, D., xx, 28, 236, 271, 298
Cassirer, E., xv, 30, 32, 189, 191, 192,
236
Categories, objective, 16
Causation, 145
Cells, definition of, 307
Centrality: characteristics of central cell,
123
Change, resistance to, 199, 225, 226
Change, social: 186, 199; basic methods,
217; permanency of, 224; the three-
339
Index
340
step procedure, 228; method of group
decision, 229
Channel theory, 174
Channels: control of, 176; economic,
185; social, 185; use of, 176
Oosed system, 49
Cole, L.. 135
Concepts: psychoanalytic, 7; topological,
6, 7; vector, 6, 7; (^see also Construtts)
Conditioned reflex: 23, 27, 55, 65, 67;
school of, 24
Conduct, change of social, 227
Conflict: 78; in food area, 183; as over¬
lapping of force fields, 40; scale of,
183; types, 260
Constru(;t: conceptual analysis, 5; con¬
ceptual dimensions, x, 23, 34* 37 f 60;
conceptual properties, 8 , 23; con¬
ceptual types, 37, 38* 39; place in
social science, ix; {see also Mathe¬
matics)
Construction: elements of, 32, 33, 34 »
method of, x, 32, 60, 61
Contemporaneity: xiii, 52, 63; as ap¬
plied in physics, 46; principle of, 45
Cosatiation, (see Satiation)
Cultural island, 232
Darwin, C., 61
Davidson, H. H., 298
Decision, as overlapping situation, 270
Decision-lime, 28
Definition: conceptual, 38; genetic, ix,
32, 33, 6r; operational, 6, 7 » * 4 *
36, 38
Dembo, T, xix. 35, 53 . 84, 128, 237,
247, 248, 267, 268, 269, 270, 274,
279. 298, 301, 334
Dependence: organizational, 117. *2°.
335; relativity of, 122; simple, ii 7 »
126
Derivation, in early studies, 7
Deierminierende Tendenz: 3; {see also
Ach, N.)
Detour problems, 73 . * 5 *
Development: 239; change in fluidity or
rigidity of life space, 247; change m
organizational interdependence, 108,
degree of realism in, 112; and degree
of unity, X07; dififerentiation in, 105,
107, 247: imagination in, 245; in¬
tegration in, X05; intelligence in, 245;
and interdependence of behavior, 104;
as maytmiim degree of organization,
X02; needs in, 273; of organization,
247; organization of behavior in, xoo;
organization of inner personal regions
in, X09; organization of motor sys¬
tems in, 108; organization of psycho¬
logical environment in, 110; percep¬
tion in, 245 ; psychoanalytic theory of,
90; reality-irreality dimension, 245,
246; scope of field of person in, X03;
space of free movement in, 103; time-
perspective in, 103, 245, 246; variety
of behavior during, 99; {see also
Regression)
Developmental levels, representation by
scientific constructs, 116
Dickson, W. 237
Differences, cultural, 80
Differentiation: of activities, 99; based
on simple dependence, 305; a* bio¬
logical concept, 72; characteristics,
116; definition of degree of, X19; and
degree of unity of behavior, 105; and
development, X071 uf dynamic whole,
116; of emotions, 99; and interde¬
pendence of behavior, 104; of knowl¬
edge, 99; of motor systems, 105; of
needs, 99; of person, 105; of social
behavior, 100; and unity of whole,
119: of unstructured areas, 69
Directedness, 24
Direction, 151
Direction, psychological, as dependent
on cognitive structure, 74
Discrimination: against minorities, 186;
phase space analysis, 202
Distance, 151; hodological, 121, 320.
323, 325
Dollard, J., 33 . 84. 298
Doob. L. W., 84, 293
Dresdner, I., 299
Duncker, K., 85. 293, 299
Dwyer, F. M., 249. 255. 268, 293, 303
Dynamic whole: diameter of, 321; num¬
ber of cells in, 118: realin' of, 191
Index
Ecology, psychological, 56, 59, 170-187
Economics: quasi-stationary equilibrium
in, 235
Education, for democracy, 77; progres¬
sive, 77
Effect, law of, 77
Egoism, 290
Einstein, A., ijo, 193, 299
Elasticity, 14
Equilibrium, 40
Equilibrium, quasi-stationary: 166; and
ability, 218; determinants of level of,
202; effects of gradients, 206; and
learning curves, 218; and social
change, 199
Erikson, £. H., 299
Escalona, S. K., 271, 299 {see also
Korsch-Escalona )
Execution habit, nature of, 3
Existence, criteria of, in science, xi
Expectation, 40
Experimentation: and education, 167;
power to control in, 166; in real life
settings, 164; reality and methods of,
192
Extinction, 54
Factor analysis, 44
Fajans, S., 258, 265, 266, 281, 299
Fates, £., 283, 286
Farber, M. L., 34, 83, 299
Fear, 40
Fechner, G. T., 30
FeigI, H., 43
Fenichel, O., 89, 128
Festinger, L., 83, 236. 237, 271, 299,
301
Field: boundary conditions 240; defini¬
tion, xi; general characteristics, 241;
leaving of the, 262; specific character¬
istics, 241
Field, force: 236, 273; change in, 224;
positive central, 203
Field, inducing, 29
Field, power, 40, 226, 267
Field, psychological. 238
Field, social; objective aspects of, 193,
198; subjective aspects of, 195, 198
Field theory: 7; analysis in, 62; basic
statements of. 24, 25; definition, viii;
341
mathematics in, 64; nature of, 43;
principal attributes of, 60
Field theoretical approach: characteris¬
tics of, 148, 149; fact-finding in, 133;
illustrations of, 134
Fletcher, J. M., 128
Fluidity, 18; derivations from, 13: of
field, 12; relation to fatigue, 13; rela¬
tion to level of reality, 13
Food; buying as decision situation, 182;
cognitive structure of, 178; cultural
availability of, 178; meal patterns,
179; meaning of eating situation,
179; substitutability of, 184
Food evaluation, frames of reference in,
180
Food habits: changes in, 184; as part of
larger field, 173; potency of frames
of reference, 183; as a result of forces,
173
Food needs, 181
Food preferences, 80
Food selection, values behind, 180
Force: 18, 39, 236; and changes of
cognitive structure, 83; conflict of,
260; and distance, 237; measurement
of, 28; point of application. 260;
relation to need, 10; relation to ten¬
sion, x6; types of, 259; and valence,
236
Formalization: i, 30; and progress of
science, xiii, 7; in psychology, 4; ten¬
dency to restrict thinking, 24
Frank, J. D., 77, 85, 249, 268, 292, 299
Frank, L. K., 53, 85, 131, 299
Frazier, E. F., 299
French, J. R. P. Jr., 249, 299
French, T. M., 4, 6, 7, 299
Freud, S., 4, 31, 88, 91, 128. 277, 299
Freund A., 283, 299
Frustration: 7, 23, 248; aggression and
emotion, 33; and aggression, 34; in
different psychological settings, 31,
32; definition, 33; elements of con¬
struction in, 32; as everyday concept,
31; field-theoretical analysis of, 32;
stimulus-response theory of, 33-34
Galilean period, in psychology, 3
Galileo, 6z
Index
342
Gardner, J. W., 299
Gatekeeper, 176, 177, 186
Gelb, A., 278, 299
Gemeinschaft, 146
Geometry: as coordinated with psycho¬
logical processes, 22; Euclidean,
Riemannian, use in physics, 2$; hodo-
logical, 22; necessity in social psychol¬
ogy, 150
Gesell, A., 299
Gesellschaft, 146
Gestalt, 7, 24, 157
Gestalt psychology: 62; and group-mind
controversy, 146
Goal: as force field, 39; as positive
valence, 39
Goal gradient hypothesis, 28, 36
Goal response, 67
Goldstein, K., 85, 128, 278, 299
Goodenough, F. L., 128, 299
Gottschaldt, K., 297, 299
Gould, R., 85, 300
Gray, M., 300
Grelling, K., 305
Group: cohesiveness, 162; definition of,
145, 146; history of concept, 1451
ideology, 162; properties as related to
properties of individuals, 162
Group atmosphere, reality of, 191
Group behavior, constancy and self¬
regulation in, 163
Group belongingness, 148, 250. 27 *
Group decision, as change procedure,
229
Group dynamics, 169
Group standards: change of, 228; and
individual conduct, 223
Guilt, 40, 245
Habits: 54 . 80. I 73 ; of execution, 5.
68 ; experiments on, 68 ; of need, 5,
68; social, 224
Halverson, H. M., 128, 300
Hartshorne, H., 290, 300
Head and tool relationship, 33 ^
Heider, F.. 82, 85, 127, 228
Hicks, J. R., 236
Hilgard. E. R., 43 . 54 . 85
Homburger, E., 90, 91, 128, 300
Hope, 40, 245
Hoppe, E., 83, 300
Homey, K., 43
Horowita, E. L., 294, 300
Hull, C. L., I, 21, 23, 25, 27, 34, 43,
36, 67, 85, 300
Humphries, L. G., 83
Ideology, 40, 131
Individual case and general laws, 60
Individual differences: 243; and general
laws, 242
Induction of forces, step-by-step method,
249
Informants, 163
Inhibition, 23
Insight, 73, 232, 234
Instinct, 2, 7
Integration, and organization of be¬
havior, lOI
Intelligence, as construct, 23
Interviews, 163
Intention: nature of, 8; relation to need,
18: as tension system, 6, 9
Interdependence: 143; concept, xiii; of
inner personal and motor regions,
106; of person and environment, 106;
within the inner personal regions, 106
Interruption: continuous tasks, 17;
tasks, 17; psychological and non-
psychological definition, 17. tendency
to recall, 10
Irreality, psychological, 75
Irwin, O. C, 128, 129, 269, 300
Jack, L. M.. 138. 281, 300
Jersild, A. T., 300
Johnson, W., 300. 303
Jucknat, M.. 85, 271, 288, 289, 300
Junkin, E., 249. 253, 268, 293, 303
Kalhorn. J., 83, 290, 300
Kanner, L., 300
Kardiner, A., 43
Karsten, A., 85. 129, 242, 282, 283,
284, 300
Katona, G., 85, 254, 300
Katz. D., 274, 300
Katz, E., 239, 276, 300
Keister, M. E., 85, 281, }oo
Kephart, N. C., 300
Index
Klisurich, D., 237
Klopfer, B., 298
Kliiver, H., 129
Knott, J. R., 300
Koehler (Kohler), W., 85, 173, 202,
236, 300, 305
Koepke, 297
Koffka, K., 62, 85, 127, 129, 300
Korsch-Escalona, S., 55 {see also Esca-
lona, S. K.)
Korzybski, A., 88, 89
Kounin, J. S., 122, 129, 276. 284, 297,
301
Krechevsky, I., 74, 85, 129
Lange, O., 236
Lashley, K. S., 86, 129
Leadership: 191; democratic, 160; train¬
ing of, 159
Learning: 7, 65; as change in cognitive
structure, 69, 74; as change in knowl¬
edge, 69; as change in valences and
values, 76, 79; and forces imposed
on person, 77; and level of aspira¬
tion, 81; relation to change in motiva¬
tion, 84; types, 66
Level of aspiration: 28, definition, 81;
determinants, 81, 288; frame of refer¬
ence in, 287; influence of ideology,
131; maturity of, 285; as related to
psychological future, 55; social influ¬
ences in, 131; success and failure, 287
Lcwin, G., 86
Lewin, K., vii, xv, 25. 35 . 47, 53. 84,
86, 129, 143, 151, 174, 237^ 247,
248, 253, 267, 268, 269, 270, 293,
* 95 . 296, 298, 301
Lewis, H. B., 86
Libidinal organization, stages, 89-90
Libido, 2, 24
Life history, 59, 90, 92
Li^ space: xi, 240; alien factors to, 59;
boundary conditions, 55, 170; bound¬
ary zone, 59; criteria for inclusion in
58; definition, xi; differentiation of
dimensions in, 244; extension of,
127; hierarchical organization, 1x0;
importance of position in, 248; and
the physical world, 57
Linnee, C.: 61; system in botany, 145
343
Lippitt, R., 53, 86, 207, 209, 2X1, 237,
249, 250, 251, 268, 293, 294, 295,
296, 301
Lippitt, Rosemary, 30Z
Lissner, K., 277, 278, 301
Locomotion: 18, 39; relation to need, 10
Locomotion social: 22, 137; psychologi¬
cal results of, 137
McCarthy, D. A., 129
MacDonald, J., 274 {see also Arsenian)
McDougall, W., 27, 93, 129
McGrath, M. C., 291, 301
McGraw, M. B., 301
Magaret, G. A., 85
Mahler, V., 277, 278, 301
Maier, N. R. F., 129, 237
Marginal man {see Marginality)
Marginality: characteristics, 142, 143;
middle-class as marginal group, 183
Marquis, D. G., 43, 54, 85
Marquis, D. P., 301
Marrow, A. J., 16, 17, 18, 276, 301
Mathematics: x; applied to psychology,
22; treatment of qualitative differ¬
ences, 31; {see also Constructs)
Mathematization {see Formalization)
Maturity: level, 97; of aspiration, 97
May, M. A., 290, 300
Mead, M.', 301
Measurement in small groups, 161
Memory, 69
Method: of construction {see Con¬
structs) ; subjective and objective, 222
Meyers, C. E., 293, 301
Miller, N. E., 84, 129
Moore, E. S., 290, 301
Morgenstern, O., 237
Mowrer, O. H., 129
Muenzinger, K. F., 52
Muller, G. E., 5, 66
Murphy, L. B., 139, 301
Murray, H., 274, 301
Need: 7, 18, 273; derived, 109; govern¬
ing, 109; Induced, 289; quasi-, 273;
relation to force, 10; relation to loco¬
motion, 10; as system in tension, 6
Need habit, nature of, 5
Index
344
Need satisfaction: 275; as release of
tension, 6; substitution, 277
Needs, interdependence of, 285
Objectivity in psychology, 62, 240
Observation: 153; as act of classifying,
158; and interpretation, 158; prob¬
lems of social perception and inter¬
pretation, 156; problem in social psy¬
chology, 156; size of unit in, 157
Operationism {.see Definition, opera¬
tional)
Oppenheim, P., 305
Organization, hierarchical, degree of,
26, 126
Ovsiankina, M., 6, 8, 275, 276, 301
Pachauri, A. R., 276, 30*
Path, in hodological geometry, 22
Pepitone, A., xx
Perception: and boundary conditions of
life space, 57; social, 83, x^6, X57,
159, 187, 199
Permeability, 14
Personality, abnormal, and group experi¬
mentation, 165
Piaget, J., 86, 107* 113, 129, 29*. 30 *
Porter, H., 302
Position, psychological, examples, 39
Power, 40, 335
Prediction: from field approach, 172J
from knowledge of child develop¬
ment, 172; from social trends, 17*
Primilivization, 94, 114
Probability, in Brunswik's theory, 58
Processes: of circular causation, 199;
quasi-stationary, i73. 202; self-regu¬
lating, 165
Productivity, 214
Psychoanalysis: 4, 61; and contempo¬
raneity, xiii; school of, 24
Psychology, topological, 4
Quantification in psychology, 30
Quasi-need, and induced force, 19
Questionnaires, 163
Radke, M., 237
Rationalization, 275
Reality: psychological, 755 social sci¬
ence, 189
Reality-irreality dimension: characteris¬
tics of, 245; in productivity of child,
245
Reaction time, 3
Recall, tendency to, z8
Redl, F., 160, 237
Regions: inner personal, 14; pattern of,
23
Regression: 248, 268; of behavior and
person, 96; l^haviorat aspects, xz3;
conditions of, zi6; definition, 88, 9 A\
and development, 87; ego, 88; experi¬
mental studies of with animals, 94;
field theory of, 91; historical and
systematic aspects, 93: kinds of, 96;
level of reality in, 92; libido, 88;
object, 88; operational definition of,
95; partial and general, 98; in psycho¬
analytic theory, 88; and retrogression,
xiii, 93; situational and established,
97; substitute theory of, 91; summary
statement of problem, 92; temporary
and permanent, 97; topological repre¬
sentation of, 91; {see also Develop¬
ment)
Reichenbach, H., 86, 302
Repetition, 282; role in learning, 74
Repression, 273
Restructurization, 72
Retrogression: definition, 94; experi¬
mental studies with animals, 94; and
regression, xiii, 93
Reuter, E. B., i 35 » 302
Roetblisberger, F. J., 237
Rorschach test, 275
Rosensweig, S., 276, 277, 302
Rotter, J. B^ 302
Sait, E. M., 85
Samuelson, P. A., 237
Sandvoss, H., 276, 302
Satiation, 75 , 79 . 122, 181, 182, 242,
270, 282
Scalar, 23
Scapegoating, 212
Schanck, R. L., 272, 302
Schlote, W., 276, 302
Schwartz, G., 86
Science: classificatory epoch in, 148;
comparative theory of, vii, 134;
Index
345
velopmental stages, 189; philosophy
of, ix; productivity in, ix; stages of
development, 3
Sears, P. S., 86, 237, 289, 301, 302
Sears, R. R., 298
Seashore, H. E., 284. 302
Sewall, M., 302
Shatter, H. S., 283, 302
Shaw, C. R., 272, 302
Sheffield, A., 271, 302
Shover, J., 303
Situation, size of, 32
Situations, overlapping, potency of, 269
Skeels, H. M., 86
Sliosberg. S., 129, 274, 279, 302
Smith, M. E., 129
Social action, relation to experimenta¬
tion, 168
Social phenomena, reality of, 190
Social psychology: historical and sys¬
tematic problems, 152; nature of con¬
structs in, 145; observation in. 153;
and physics, 133; problems of, 132;
theoretical and applied, 168
Social science: problem of reality in,
189 ; problem of existence in, 189
Social units, size of, 159
Sociology: relation to other sciences,
134; spatial concepts in, 151
Space, Euclidean, in representing field,
151
Space hodological: 25; direction in, 26;
distance in, 26; distinguished path in,
26; differentiation of person in, 26;
in representing social field, 151
Space, phase: 44, 91, 200, 234; com¬
pared with social field, 200; as re¬
lated to field theory, 43
Space of free movement, 78, 114, 136,
138, 209
Spatial relations, use of Euclidean geom¬
etry for representation of, 22
Speculative epoch, in psychology, 2, 3
Spence, K.. 84
Spencer, H., 107, 129
Stern, W., 274, 302
Stevens, S. S., 86
Stimulus-response: school of. 31, 33;
approach to problem of frustration a a
Stoddard, G. D., 302
Structure, cognitive: 15, 39, 69, 244,
273; change in, 83, 231; and habits,
34; after insight, 73; relation to
strength and direction of forces, 28;
relation to valence, 80
Structure, group, 161
Substitute value, 28
Super-ego, 289
Teleology; and foresight, 26; and con¬
sciousness,'26; and associationism, 26
Tension: conceptual definition, ii; deri¬
vations from communication between
systems, 13; derivations related to in¬
tensity of need, 15; emotional, 14,
268; ^ualization of, 12, 18; field
theoretical implications of the con¬
struct, ii; in the group, 162; inter¬
communication of systems, 12; rela¬
tion to force, 16; as source of energy,
5
Tension systems: derivations from, 9;
method for proving or disproving
theory of, 9
Tensor, 23
Terman, L. M., 302
Theory, empirical, characteristics of, 242
Thomas, D. S., 302
Thompson, H., 299
Thompson, M. M., 294, 302
Thorndike, L., law of effect, 27, 66
Thurstone, L., 44
Time perspective: 40, 33; definition, 73;
enlargement of, 75; and memory, 69
Tolman, E. C., i, 32, 54, 68, 86, 303
Topology, uses in representation of field,
130
Transportation, of social phenomena to
laboratory, z 64
Travis, L. E., 303
Trends, historical, limitations of as guide
to action, 171
Unit of observation, relation between
size and duration of, 163
United States Treasury Department, 222,
223
Units: situational, 32; size of, 198, 243;
time-field, 52
Index
346
Unity of whole: dehnition, 119; relation
to degree of differentiation, 120; rela*
tion to diameter, X20
Updergraff, R., 86
Valence, 273; dependence on cognitive
structure, 80
Values, 40
Vector, 18, 23, 27
Vested interests, in social level, 225
Vigotsky, L. S.. 83, 86, 279, 303
Von Neumann, J., 237
Waring, E. B., 86 , 249. 255 . 268. 293.
303
Weber, E. H., 30
Weigl, E., 279. 303
Wellman, B. L., 86, 129, 303
Wells, F. L., 129
Werner, H., 86, 278, 303
Werthheimer, M., 86
White, R., 53. 86, 207, 209, 211, 237,
268 ,293, 294, 293, 296, 3or
Whole: central and peripheral layers.
223, 323; degree of differentiation in,
3x6; determinants of number of pat*
terns in, 125; diameter, 121; disor*
ganization in, X26; homogeneity of,
125, 326; inner and outer layers, X24,
325; organizational dependence of,
335; organizational unity of, 126, 335,
336; relation between degree of unity
and differentiation of, 319; simple
unity in, 316; stratification of, 3*3
Wiehe, F., 292
Will, strength of, 5
Will power, experiments on measure¬
ments of, 9
Willerman, B., 233
Williams, H. M., 86
Wolf, T. H., 281, 284, 303
World-lines, 50
Wright, B. A., 271. 291, 303
Wright, H. F., 258, 281, 303
Wright, M. E., 35, 25*. *68, 295. 303
Zeigarnik, B., 6-20, 24, 276, 277, 303,
335
Revised December, 1967
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ERWIN panoTsry: Studies In Iconology: Humanittic
, h‘’ 7 arry- The Establishment of the European He-
'■ gem'ny E4T5-.715: We and
Age of the Renaissance of
RUO^/oRSO P^ A
^I'ti'wCregorDaf. Ed. uiitb an Intro, by Gene
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1520 • ^
4
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1870: Aspects of Liberalism TB/1331
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CRAKE brihton; A Decade of Revolution. 1789-1799. *
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D. W. BROCan: The Development of Modem France. ^ ^
Volume 1 : From the Fall of the Empire to the Dreyfus
Affair t«/it84
Volume II: The Shadoto of War, World War I, Be¬
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|. BRONOWSKi a BRUCE UAZiiSH: The Western Intellectual
Tradition: From Leonardo to Hege/ ^ TB/3001
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1799-1814. * Ulus. rB/5033
ALAN BULLOCK: Hitler. A Study in Tyranny. ^ ^ Hlus.
TB/11Z3
E. R. CARR: German-Soviet Relations Between the Two
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CARL FRIEDRICH: The Age of the Baroque, 16x0*1660. *
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Russia. New Epilogue by the Author tb/ii88
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1789. • /Hub. TB/3017
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CARLTON t* H. HAYES: A Generation of Materialism. 1871-
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|. H. KEXTER: Reappraisals in History: New Views on
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STANLEY HOFTMANN et at.: Xn Search of France: The
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eth Century TB/1219
A. R. HUMFHREYs: The Auguslan World: Society.
Thought, 6r Letters in sSth Century England ^ ^
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DAN N. lACOBS. Ed.: The New Communist Manifesto
and Related Documents. Third edilio/t, revised
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LIONEL kochan: The Struggle for Germany: 1914-45
TB/1304
HANS kokn: The Mind of Germany: The Education of a
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KiNCSLET MARTIN: French Liberal Thought In the
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ROBERT K. MERTON: Science. Technology and Society in
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L. B. NAMIER: Vanished Supremacies: Essays on Euro¬
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FRANZ NEUMANN: Behemoth; The Structure and Practice
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ALBERT soRCL: Europe Under the Old Regime. Translated
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N. N. SUKHANOV: The Russian Revolution. 1917: Eyewit¬
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H. R. THEVOR-ROPCTr Historical Essays ® ^ TB/ia69
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R. R. bolcar: The Classical Heritage and Its Benericl-
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rRANK t. MANUEL: The Pfophets of Paris: Turgot, Con-
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FERRY MILLER A T. K. JOHNSON. Editors: The Puritans: A
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Vol. I TB/1093; Vol. n TB/t 094
RALPH BARTON FERRY: The Thought and Character of
William fames: Briefer V<er 5 io« T8/ti56
C 60 RC S1MMEL ct al.: Essays on Sociology. Philosophy.
and Aesthetics. 1 Edited by Kurt H. Wolff
BRUNO SNELL: The Discovery of the Mind: The Creek
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PAGET TOYNBEE: Dante Alighieri: His Lif^ and Works.
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PHILIP p wiener: Evolution and the Founders of Prag¬
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BASIL WILLEY : More Nineteenth Century Studies. A
Croup of Honest Doubters « ^ TB/t262
Law
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RICHARD B^Moams^Fair Trial:
cused, from Anne Hwfrhirfson to Alger ^***- "^
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Literature, Poetry, The Novel & Cnfictsm
JAMES BAIRD: Ishmael: The Art of Melville in the Con¬
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JACQUES barzun: The House of Intellect ^ TB/1031
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ADOLF ERMAN, Ed.; The Ancient Egyptians: A Source-
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ALFRED HARBACE: As They Liked It: A Study of Shakes¬
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STANLEY R. HOPPER. Ed : Spiritual Problems in Con¬
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A. R. HUMPHREYS: The Augustan World: Society,
Thought Rnd Letters in iSih Century England • ^
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ARNOLD kettle: An Introduction to the English Novel. ^
Volume I: Defoe to George Eliot tb/ioii
Volume II: Henry James to the Present tb/ioii
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; B LEISKMAN: The Monarch of Wit: An Analytical and
Comparative Study of the Poetry of John Donne • ^
tb/i2$B
I B LEISKMAN: Themes and Variations in Shakespeare's
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ROGER SHERMAN LpOMis: The Development of Arthurian
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JOHN STUART MILL: On Bcnlham and Coleridge. iHiro-
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KCNNCTH ». MURDOCK: Lilerahire and Theology in
Colonial New England - ... j t’
SAMUIL FtPTs: The Diary of Samuel Pepys. <• Edited by
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RoetRT FRCYER. Ed.: ViClorian Uieraiure
CEORCe SANTAYANA: InierpreUlioHS of Poelry
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HEINRICH straumann: American Literafurc in »he
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Matthew Arnold ^ ^ . e. ] 5 u<. 1
BAsa willet: More Nineteenth Century Stu^e*. A
Croup of Honest Doubters « * f a
RAYMOND WILLIAMS: CuIturc and Society,
RAYMOND wn-LJAMs: The Long Revolution. -> ^
mor^Toauwen zabel. Editor: Utcrary
At^.Mra VOLI TB/ 30 E 5 ; VoL 11 TB/3OI4
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tlerna! Return 5 ^ _
.CEA eliade: Rites »"<l„SymboU of
\AtJSteries of Birth and Rehtrth I
Th„pi.: Kd..!,
rt the Ancient Near East
6
C. c. JUHC A c. KTKtNYi: Es$«ys On « Sclenc« o^ Myth¬
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Maiden To/2ot4
DO&A A ERWIN FANorsKv : PAn<Sor«*» Box: The Changing
Aspects of a Mythical Symbol. ^ Revised edition.
HtuM. TR'2021
ERWIN FANOFSKvr Studies In Iconology: Humanistic
Themes in the Art of the Renaissance. ^180 iUustra^
tions TB/1077
JEAN SEZNEC: The Survival of the Pagan Cods: The
Mythological Tradition and its Place in Renaissance
Humanism and Art, ^ loS illustrations n/1004
KEiLMVT WTLHELii: Change: Eight Lectures on the 1
Ching ^ TR/2019
HEINRICH ZIMMER: Myths and Symbols in Indian Art and
Ovilization. ^ 70 illtsstralions TB/2005
Philoiophy
C. E. M. ANSCOMBE: An Introduction to V^^tt gen stein's
Tractahis. ^ ^ Second Edition, Revised TR/1210
KCNRi bercson: Time and Free Will; An Essay on the
Immediate Oata of Consciousness ^ ^ TB/1021
H. j. BLACKHAM: Ssx Existentialist 71 \inkers: Krerice-
gaard, Nietzsche, Jaspers, Marcel Heidegger, Sartre ^ ^
TB/1002
CRANE BRiNTON: Ntetzsche. Neto Preface, Bibliography
and Epilogue by the Author 70/1197
MARTIN bvber: The Knowledge of Man. ^ Ed. with an
fnfro. by Maurice Friedman. Trans, by Mawrice fried^
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ERNST CASSIRER: The Individual and the Cosmos in
Renaissance Philosophy. ^ Translated taifh an Intro*
duction by Mario Domandi TB /1097
ERNST CASSIRER: Rousseau« Kant and Goethe. Introduc¬
tion by Peter Coy TB /1092
rREDERiCK coPtcsTON: Medieval Philosophy * ^ TB /376
r. M. CORKTORD: Piincipium Sapientiae: A Study of the
Origins of Creek Philosophical Thought. Edited by
W, K. C. Guthrie ra/iat^
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in the Origins of Western Speculation S tb/io
wiLPRio DCSAN: The Tragic Finale: An Essay on the
Philosophy of Jean-Paul Sartre tb/io^o
A. p. o'tKTRivcs: Natural Law: An Historical Survey ^
TB/1223
MARVIN PARSER: The Aims of Phenomenology; The
Mofroes, Methods, and Impact of Husserl's Thought
TB/t29t
MARvm farber: Phenomenology and Existence: To-
toords a Philosophy within Nature rB/1295
HERBERT riNCARETTE: The Sell in Transformation: Psy¬
choanalysis, Philosophy and the Life of the Spirit t
TB/1177
PAVE ERiEDiANDER: Plato: An Introduction ^ TB/2017
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Battle. Intro, by Hannah Arendt 70/1294
WILLIAM CHASE CRCCNE. Moira: Fate, Good, and Eoii in
Creek Thought T0/tiO4
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to Aristotle • ^ To/iood
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ISAAC Kusuc: A History of Medieval jewish Philosophy
EDMUND HUSSERL: Phenomeoology and the Crisis of
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Quentin Lauer 70/1x70
IMMANUEL KANT: The Doctrine of Virtue, being Part H
of the Metaphysic of Morals. Trans, with Notes
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IMMANUEL KANT: Groundwork of the Metaphysic of
Morals. Trane, dr analyzed by H. J. Paton 70/1139
IMMANUEL KANT: lactures on Ethics. S ^ Introduction by
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IMMANUEL KANT: Religion Within the Limits of Reason
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MAURICE MANDEiBAUM: The Problem of Historical
Knowledge: An Answer to Relativism. New Preface
by the Author 70/1336
CABRtXL MARCEL: Being and Having: An Ezrstentia/
Diary, ^ Intro, by James Collins T8/310
GEORCC A. MORGAN: What Nietzsche Meant TB/1198
H. J. PATON: The Categorical Imperative: A Study in
Kant's Moral Philosophy ^ T8/1325
PHILO. SAADVA CAON. a lEKUDA HALEVI: Three Jewish
Philosophers. Ed. by Hans Letoy. Alexander Ahmann,
Srisaak Hetnemann To/613
MICHAEL POLANVJ: Personal Knowledge: Towards a Post-
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WILLARD VAN ORMAN ouiNc: Elementary Logic: Revised
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WILLARD VAN ORMAN QUINE: From a Logical Point of
View: Logico-Phitosophical Essays 70/366
BERTRAND RUSSELL el oi.: The Philosophy of Bertrand
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Voi. I 70/1093; Vol. n To/1096
L. s. STEBBiNC: A Modern Introduction to Logic ^ 70/536
ALFRED NORTH WHITEHEAD: Process and Reality: An
Essay in Cosmology ^ 70/1033
PHILIP p. wiener: Evolution and the Founders of Prag¬
matism. Foreword by John Deioey 70/1212
WILHELM wiNDCLBAND: A History of Philosophy
Vol. 1 : Creek, Roman, Medieval 70/36
Vol. II: Renaissance, Enlightenment, Modern TO/39
lUDWic wrcTCENSTClN: The Blue and Brown Books ^
To/iaii
Political Seiertee & Government
ICREMY bcktham: The Handbook of Political Fallacies:
Introduction by Crane Brmfon to/1069
C E. BLACK: The Dynamics of Modernization: A Study
in Comparative History To/1321
KENNETH E. BOULDINC: ConAicI and Dcfcnse: A General
Theory 70/3024
crane orinton: English Political Thought in the Nine¬
teenth Century To/1071
ROBERT conquest: Power and Policy in the USSR: The
Study of Soviet Dynasties ^ 70/1307
EDWARD $. CORWIN: American Constitutional History:
Essays edited by Alpheus T. Mason and Gerald Car-
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ROOCRT PAMt A CHARLES f. LINOOLOM: Politics, EcOPOmicS,
and Welfare: Planning and Po/ifico-£ronomir Sys¬
tems Resolved into Basic Social Processes TB/3037
JOHN NEVILLE FicctS: The Divine Right of Kings. Intro-
duciiort by C. R. Elton TO/1191
fOKN NEVILLE Ficcis: Political Thought from Gerson to
Grotius: 1414-1623: Srocn Studies. Introduction by
Garrett Mattingly To/1032
F. L. CANSHDF: Feudalism ^ TB/1036
C. P. coocH: English Democratic Ideas in the Seven¬
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|. H. hcxter: More's Utopia: The Biography of an Idea.
New Epilogue by the Author T8/1193
SIDNEY hook: Reason. Social Myths and Democracy ^
T 0 /t 237
ROBERT H. JACKSON: The Supreme Court in the American
System of Government ^ to/xio6
DAN N. JACOBS. Ed.: The New Communist Manifesto and
Related Documents. Third Edition, Revised 70/1076
DAN N. JACOBS A HANS OAERWALD. Eds.: Chinese Com¬
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HAKS KORN: Political Ideologies of the 20th Century
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KOY c. MACRiDis^ Bd.: PoltHcal Parties: Contemporary
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RoacKT GREEN MCCI.OSK6Y: American Conservatism in
the Age of Enterprise, xd65-i9io 73/1137
KmcsLEY martin: French Literal Thought in the
Eighteenth Century: Political ideas from Bayle to
Condoreet ^ TB/1114
ROBERTO MICHELS: First Lectures in Political Sociology.
Edited by Alfred de Crazia f ^ TB/1224
JOHN STUART MILL: On Bentham and Coleridge. ^
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BARRINGTON MOORE, fu.: Political Power and Social
Theory: Seven Studies I Tm/1221
BARRINGTON MOORE, fR.: Soviet Politics—The Dilemma
of Power: The Role of ideas in SociW Change I
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BARRINGTON MOORS, pt.: Terror and Progress—USSR:
Some Sources of Change and Stability in the Soviet
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JOHN B. morrall: Political Thought in Medieval
Times ^ 73/1076
JOHN PLAMENATZ: German Marxism and Russian Com*
munism. ® ^ New Preface by the Author n/itSg
KARL R. POPPER: The Open Society and Us Enemies ^
Vol. I: The Spell of Plato Tb/iioi
Vol. 11 : The High Tide of Prophecy; Hegel, Marx and
the Aftermath T3/1102
JOHN P. ROCHE, Ed.: American Political Thought: From
Jefferson to Progressivism TB/1332
KENRC DE SAINT-SIMON: Social Organization, The Science
of Man, and Other Writings. Edited and Translated
by Felix Markham TB/1132
CHARLES f. scHOTTiAND, Ed.: The Welfare State 73/1323
JOSEPH A. SCHUMPETER! Capitalism, Socialism and
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Rise of Mao 73/1306
CHARLES H. SHINN: Mining Camps: A Study in American
Frontier Government, t Edited by Rodman W. Paul
73/3062
PETER woLt, Ed.: Public Administration and Policy: Se*
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Psychology
ALFRED ADLER: The Individual Psychology of Alfred
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T3/1154
ALFRED ADLER: Probkms of Neufosis. introduction by
Heinz L Ansbacher
ARTHUR BURTON A ROBERT E. HARRIS, EdS.: CllniCal
Studies of Personality
Vol. I TB/3075; Vol. II T3/3076
HADLEY CAKTRlt: The Invasion from Macs: A Study in
the Psychology of Panic f 73/1262
HERBERT FiNCARETTE: The Self in Transformation: Psy-
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T3/1177
SIGMUND FREUD: On Creativity and the Unconscious:
Papers on the Psychology of Art, Literature, Love,
Religion. $ ^ intro, by Benfamin Nelson TB/45
c lUDSON HERRICK: Thc Evolutjon of Human Nature
T3/545
WILLIAM JAMES: Psychology: The Briefer Course. Edited
with an Intro, by Cordon Allport 73/1034
c. G. TUNC: Psychological ReRections ^
C c JUNG: Symbols of Transformation: An Analysis of
the Prelude to a Case of Schizophrenia. ^ tllus.
Vol. I T3/2OO9; Vol. II T3/2010
C. C. JUNG A c. KBftfNYl: Essays on a Science of Mytholo¬
gy: The Myths of the Divine Child and the Drome
Maiden T3/2014
KARL MENNiNCER: Theory of Psychoanalytic Technique
T3/1144
ERICH NEUMANN: Amor and Psyche: The Psychic De¬
velopment of the Feminine ^ 13/2012
ERJCH NEUMANN: The Archetypal World of Heruy
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ERICH NEUMANN i The Origins and History of Conscious¬
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RALPH BARTON PERRY: The Thought and Character of
William James: Briefer Version 73/1156
JOHN K. schaar: Escape from Authority: The Perspec¬
tives of Erich Fromm 73/1155
muzafer sherif: The Psychology of Social Norms
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Sociology
JACQUES BARZUN: Racet A Study in Superstition, Revised
Edition 73/1172
BERNARD BERELSON, Ed.: The Behavioral Sciences Today
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ABRAHAM CAKAN: The Rise of David Levinsky: A docu¬
mentary novel of social mobility in early twentieth
century America. Intro, by John Higham 73/1026
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ALLISON DAVIS A JOHN DOLLARD: Children of Bondage;
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A Study of Negro Life in a Northern City. * Revised
and Enlarged. Intro, by Everett C. Hughes
Vol. I 73/1066; Vol. II 73/1067
EMILE DURKHCtM et al..* Essays on Sociology and Philoso¬
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LEON FESTINGER. HENRY W. RIECKEN A STAKIEY SCHACHTER:
When Prophecy Fails: A Social and Psychological Ac¬
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ALVIN w. couldner: Wildcat Strike: A Study in Worker-
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Society and the French Man of Letters in the Nine¬
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FRANCIS j. CRUNo: Aristocracy in America: Social Class
in the Formative Years of the New Nation * tb/iooi
KURT lewtn: Field Theory in Social Science: Selected
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Dorwin Cartwright 73/1135
R. M. maciver: Social Causation 73/1153
ROBERT K. MERTON, LEONARD BROOM, LEONARD S. COTTRELL.
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ROBERTO MiCKELST Fifst Leclures in Political Sociology.
Edited by Alfred de Crazia 1 • T3/1224
BARRINGTON MOORE, JR.: Political Power and Social
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BARRINGTON MOORE, JR-: SovIct PoliUcf—The Dilemma
of Power: The Pole of Ideas in Social Change I
T3/1222
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the Sociology of Formal Organization TB/1230
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HERBERT SIMON: Tha Shape of Automation: For Men
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MTiRtM A. SOROKIN: Contemporary Sociological Theories.
Through the First Quarter of the 20th Century 1^/3046
MAURICE R. STEIN: The Eclipse of Community: An Inter^
prerafion of American Studies Te/it26
WILLIAM I. THOMAS: The Unadjusted Girl: Wirfi Cases
and Standpoint for Behavior Analysis. 1 New Intro
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EDWARD A. TiRYAKiAN, Ed.: Socioiogical Theory. Values
and Sociocultural Change: Essays in Honor of
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RELIGION
Ancient Sr Classical
H. BREASTED: Development of Religion and Thought in
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HENRI FRANKFORT: Ancient Egyptian Religion: An /«•
terpretation Te/77
C. RACHEL levy: Religious Conceptions of the Stone Age
and their Influence upon European Thought. ^ lltus.
Introduction by Henri Frankfort TB/106
MARTIN t. NILSSON; Creek Folk Religion. Foreword by
Arthur Darby Nock TB/70
ALEXANDRE PiANKOFF: The Shrines of Tut-Ankh*Amon ^
Edited by N. Rambova 3y7il/us. tb/2oii
ERWIN ROHDE: Psyche: The Cult of Souls and Belief in
Immortality Among the Creeks. * Intro, by W K. C.
Cuthrie VoJ. I TB/t40; Vq|. 11 rB/]4i
H. f. ROSE; Religion in Greece and Rome ^ t»/55
BibUcpI Thoitghl Sr Literature
w. F. ALBRIGHT: The Biblical Period from Abraham to
tb/io2
C. K. BARRETT, Ed.' The New Testament Background:
Selected Documents ^ rB/66
c. H. DODD: The Authority of the Bible * TB/43
M. s. enslin: Christian Beginnings ^ TB/5
M. $. ENSLIN: The Literature of the Christian Move*
ment ^
JOHN gray: Archaeology and the Old Testament
World Ulus. TB/127
lAMES MUILENBURC: The Way of Israel: Biblical Faith
and Ethics ^ TB/133
H. H. ROWLEY; The Growth of the Old Testament ^
tb/io7
GEORGE ADAM SMITH; The Historical Geography of the
Holy Land. » ^ Revised and reset rB/130
D. wiNTON THOMAS. Ed.: Documents from Old Testament
Times ^ TB/65
WALTHER ziMMERLt. The Law and the Prophets; A Study
of the Meaning of the Old Testament ^ TB/144
The Judaic Tradition
BACCK; Judaism and Christianity. Trans, with Intro,
by Walter Kaufmann TB/623
SALo w. baron: Modem Nationalism and Religion
rB/0id
MARTIN BUBER: Eclipse of God: Studies in the Relation
Between Religion and Philosophy ^ Tv/12
MARTIN BUBER: For the Sake of Heaven tb/6oi
MARTIN BUBER HasIdlsm and Modern Man. ^ Ed. and
Trans, by Maurice Friedman TB/039
MARTIN BUBER: The Knowledge of Man. ^ Edited with an
Introduction by Maurice Friedman. Translated by
Maurice Friedman and Ronald Cregor Smith TB/135
MARTIN BUBER: Moscs: The Rtvelation and the Cove¬
nant A tb/037
MARTIN BUBER: The Origin and Meaning of Hasidism ^
tb /035
MARTIN BUBER; Pointing the Way. ^ Introduction by
Maurice $. Friedman TB/103
MARTIN BUBER: The Prophetic Faith TB/73
MARTIN BUBER: TWO Types of Faith: the interpenetration
of fudaism and Christianity ^ ^ TB/75
ERNST LUDWIG EHRLICH: A CoRcise History of Israel:
From the Earliest Times to the Destruction of the
Temple in A.D. 70 ® ^ tb/i 28
MAURICE s. FRIEDMAN: Martin Buber: The Life of Dia¬
logue * TB/64
GENESIS; The N 1 V Translation TB/836
SOLOMON CRAYZEL: A Hislory of the Contemporary jews
TB/816
WILL HERBERG: Judaism and Modem Man tb/8io
ARTHUR HERTZBERG: The Zionist Idea TB/617
ABRAHAM j. HCSCKEL: Cod LTi Search of Man: A Philoso¬
phy of 7 ud 0 isrn T8/607
I0AAC HLPSiK: A History of Medieval Jewish Philosophy
TB/603
JACOB R. MARCUS: The Jew In the Medieval World TB/814
MAX t. MARCDLIS A ALEXANDER MARX: A History cf the
Jewish People rB/806
T. f. MEEK: Hebrew Origins TB/69
JAMES FARKES: The Conflict of the Church and the Syna*
gogue: The Jews and Early Christianity TB/621
FHHO, SAADYA CAON. A jEHUDA HALEVI: Three Jewish
Philosophers. £d. by Hans Lewey, Alexander Alt-
mann, €r Isaak Hernemann T»/8t3
CECIL ROTH A History of the Marranos TB/di2
CECIL ROTH: The Jews in the Renaissance. Ulus. TB/634
HERMAN L. STRACK: Introduction to the Talmud and
Midrash tb/8o6
JOSHUA TRACHTENBERG: The Devil and the Jews: The
Medieval Conception of the Jew and its Relation to
Modern Anti-Semitism TB/822
Chri$tiar}tty: General
ROLAND H- BAiNTON: Christendom: A Short History of
Christianity and its Impact on Western Civtltzaiton. ^
Ulus. Vol. 1 Te/t3i; Vol. II TB/132
Christianity: Origins & Early Devcioprrtent
AUGUSTINE: An Augustine Synthesis. ^ Edited by Erich
Przywara TB/335
w. D. DAVIES: Paul and Rabbinic Judaism 5 omr Rab¬
binic Elements in Pauline Theology. New Intro, by
the Author * • TB^i 46
ADOir DEJSSMANN' Paul: A Study in Social and Religious
History TB/15
EDWARD GIBBON. The Triumph of Christendom in the
Roman Empire (Chaps. XV-XX of “Decline and Fall/'
J. B. Bury edition). S ^ f//us. TB/46
EDGAR J. COODSPEED; A Life of JeSUS TB/s
ROBERT M GRANT. Cnosticism and Early Christianity. ^
Revised Edition rB/138
ADOir HARNACK: The Mission and Expansion of CKristi*
anity in the First Three Centuries. Introduction by
Jaro5/tft> Petikan 73^92
R. K. HARRISON: The Dead Sea Scrolls : An Introduc¬
tion « ^ TB/84
EDWIN HATCH The Influence of Creek Ideas on Christi*
anity. S ^ Introduction and Bibliography by Frederick
C. Granf TB/s8
9
GERHART B. LADNER: The Idea of Reform: Its Impact on
Christian Thought and Action in the Age of the
Fathers TB/149
ARTHUR DARBY NOCK: Early Gentile Christianity and Its
Hellenistic Background tb/iii
ARTHUR DARBY NOCK: St. Paul ^ ^ TB/s 04
OR2GEN: On First Principles. ^ Edited by C. W. Butler~
worth. Introduction by Henri de Lubac TB/511
JAMES PARKEs: Th# ConRict of the Church and the Syria*'
gogue: The Jews and Early Christianity Tt/Oai
suipicius SEVERUS et a).: The Western Fathers: Being the
Lives of Martin of Tours, Ambrose, Augustine of
Hippo, Honoratus of Artes and Cermanus of Aux~
erre. ^ Edited and translated by F. R. Hoare TB/309
JOHANNES WEISS: Earliest Christianity: A History of the
Period A.D. so^tso. Introduction and Bibliography
by Frederick C. Grant Volume I TB/53
Volume II TB/54
Christianity: The Middle Ages and The
Reformation
ANSELM or canterbury: Truths Freedom and Evil: Three
Philosophical Dialogues. Ed., trans., and Intro, by
Jasper Hopkins & Herbert Richardson TB/117
JOHN CALVIN A JACOPO SADOLETO: A Reformation De¬
bate. Edited by John C. Olin TB/1239
C. constant: The Reformation In England: The English
Schism, Henry V///, tso 9 -^S 47 ^ TB/3t4
CHRISTOPHER DAWSON, Ed.: Mission lo Asia: Hemitroes
and Letters of the Franciscan Missionaries in Mon¬
golia and China in the ijth and t4th Centuries ^
TB/315
JOHANNES ECKHART; Meistef Eckhaft: A Modern Truns-
laticn by R. B. Blakney rs/S
DE5IOERIUS ERASMUS: Christian Humanism and the
Reformation: Selected Writings. Edited and trans¬
lated by John C. Olin TB/iib 6
triENNE GILSON: Dante and Philosophy ^ tb/ 1069
WILLIAM HALLER: The Rise of Puritanism ^ tb/bb
HA|0 HOLBORN: Ulrich von Hulten and the German Ref-
ormation TB/123®
fOKAN MU121NCA: Erasmus and the Age of Reforma¬
tion. ^ Ulus. ^
A. c. mcgiffert: Protestant Thought Before Kant Pref-
aee by Jaroslav Pelikan
fOHN T. MCKEiii-: Mak«TS of th* ChHstUn Tradition:
From Alfred the Great to Sehleiermacher * T»/ia»
c. mollat: The Popes at Avignon, 1305-157* * T*/3oa
CORDON RUPPt Luther's Progress lo the Diet of
Worms * ^
C ?irtgt»anify-- The Protestant Tradition
KARL BARTH: Church DogmatiCS: A Selection * t »/95
KARL oaRTH: Dogmatics in Outline ^ . J* ’
KARL BARTH: The Word of God and the Word of Man^^
RODoir BULTMAMN el al: Translating Theology into the
Modem Age: Historical. Systematic and Pas oral Re¬
flections on Theology and the Church m the ^n-
temporary Situation. Volume a of Journal for ge¬
ology and the Church, edited by Robert W. Funk tn
association toilh Gerhard Ebeling * 5 *
WHrTNtT R. cross: The Burned-Over Dislncl: The Social
and /r»fe»ecl««l Hestory of Enthusiastic Religion in
Western New York. iSoo-lSjo *
NETS r. S. FERRf: Swedish Contributions Modern
Theology. New Preface by the Author. Additional
chapter by William A. Johnson TB/147
ERNST kasemann. el al.: Distinctive Protestant and
Catholic Themes Reconsidered. Volume ) of
for Theology and the Church, edited by Robert W.
Funk in association loifh Gerhard Ebeling TB/25?
soren KIERKEGAARD: On Authority and Revelation: The
Book on Adler. Trnnsfafed by Walter Lotorte. Intro,
by Frederic A: Son tag tB/139
SOREN KIERKEGAARD: CrisIs In the Life of an Actress and
Other Essays on Drama. ^ Trans, with Intro, by
Stephen D. Crites TB/t45
SOREN KIERKEGAARD: Edifying Dlscoufses. Edited with
an Introduction by Paul Hotmer TB/32
SOREN KtERRECAARD: The JoumaU of Kierkegaard. ^ ^
Ed. with Intro, by Alexander Dru TB/32
SOREN KIERKEGAARD : The Point of View for My Work as
an Author: A Report to History, S Preface by Benja¬
min hJetson TB/ 0 d
SOREN KIERKEGAARD: The Present Age. % ^ Translated
and edited by Alexander Dru. Introduction by Walter
Kaufmann TB/94
SOREN KiERXECAARD; PuHty of Heart ^ TB/4
SOREN KIERKEGAARD; Repetition: An Essay in Experi¬
mental Psychology. ^ Translated with Introduction &
Notes by Walter Lovrie TB/tiy
SOREN KIERKEGAARD: Wofks of Love: Some Christian
Re/?ection 5 in the Form of Discourses ^ TB/122
WALTER LOWRtc: Kierkegaard: A Life V0I. I tb /99
Vol. II Ti /90
JOHN macquarrie: The Scope of Demythologizing:
Bultmann and His Critics ^ tb/x 34
PERRY MILLER * T. H. JOHNSON. Editors: The Puritans: A
Sourcebook of Tbeir Writings Vol. I TB/1093
Vol. II TB/1094
WOLFHART PANNENBERC. et al.: History and Hermeneutic.
Volume 4 of Journal for Theology and the Church,
edited by Robert IV. Funk in association with Ger¬
hard Ebeling TB/254
JAMES M. ROBINSON el al.: The Bultmann School of Bibli¬
cal Interpretation: New Directions? Volume t of
loumal for Theology and the Church, edited by Rob¬
ert W. Funk in association with Gerhard Ebeling
TB/a5X
r. sofLEiERMACHTR: The Christian Faith. * Introduction
by Richard R. Niebuhr Vol. I TB/toB
Vol. II TB/109
r. sCMLtiERMACHER: On Religion: Speeches to Its Cul¬
tured Despisers. Intro, by Rudolf Otto TB/36
TIMOTHY L. SMITH: Revivallsm and Social Reform:
American Protestantism on the Eve of the Civil War
pAUt TitifCH: Dynamics of Faith ^
PAUL raLicH: Morality and Beyond
EVELYN ukdermjll: Worship ^
TB/2229
TB/4 2
TB/242
tb/io
Christianity: The Roman and Eastern
Traditions
DOM CUTMBCRT BimCT: Weslcm Mysticism: The Teach¬
ing of Augustine. Gregory and Bernard on Contem-
plalion and the Conlemplalive Life i • * .
A ROBERT CAPONCCRi, Ed.: Modem Catholic Thinkers I:
Cod and Mon* , ,
A. ROBtRT CAPONiCRi. Ed.: Modem Catholic Thinkers II:
The Church and the Poftlicol Order^ TB/307
THOMAS coRBisHLtY, s./.: Roman Catholicism f "[f'***
CHRISTOPHER DAWSON: The Historic Reality of Ch^sHan
c ^^'r^TOV: The Russian Religious Mind: Kievan
Christianity, the soth to the t)th centuries TB/370
triENNE GILSON: The Spirit of Thomism
GABRIEL marcel: Being and Having: An
Diory. * Introduction by fames Collins V. V
GABRIEL marcel: Homo Viator: Introduction to a Meta-
physic of Hope ^ ^
FKANCIS OE sales: Introduction to the Devout Life.
Trans, by John K. Ryan ^ , TB/ 3 te
GUSTAVE WEIGEL, s. ).= Cathollc Theology in Dialogue
10
Oriental Religions: Far Eastern, Near Eastern
TOE akdrae: Mohammed: The Man and His Faith ^
tb/62
EDWARD CONZt; BuddKism: tts Essence and Develop-
menl. ® ^ Foreword by Arthur Watey
EDWARD CONZE et al.. Edilots: BuddhIst Texts Through
the Ages ^ TB/113
AMANDA coomaeaswamy: Buddha and the Gospel of
Buddhism. ^ fffus. tb/si^
H. c. creel: Confucius and the Chinese Way TB/63
FEANELiN EDCEETON, Trans. & Ed.: The Bhagavad Gita
tb/li5
SWAHI MtKHiLANANDA, Trans. Ed.: The Upanishads: A
One-Volume Abridgment ^ TB/114
HTLiwuT WILHELM: Change; Eight Lectures on the 1
Ching ^ TB/Z019
Pfilfosophy of Religion
NICOLAS BERDYAEV; The Beginning and the End 5 ^ rB/14
NICOLAS BERDYAEV: Christian Existentialism: A Berd¬
yaev Syntheses. ^ Ed. by Donald A. Lowrie tb/i^o
NICOLAS BCADYAEv: The Destiny of Man ^ tb/6i
RUDOLF bultmann: History and Eschatology: The Pres¬
ence of Eternity ® TB/91
RUDOLF BULTMANN AND FIVE CRITICS; Kerygma and
Myth: A Theological Debate ^ ro/So
RUDOLF BULTMAMN and KARL KUMDSJN: Form Criticism.
Tteo Essays on New Testament Research. ^ Trans¬
lated by Frederick C. Grant Ta/96
MiRCEA tLiADE: Myths, Dfcams. and Mysteries The En-
courtier between Contemporary fatfhs and Archau
Realities $ TB/1320
MiRctA CLiADC: The Sacrcd and the Profane tb/Bi
LUDWIG FEUERBACH: The Essence of Christianity. S In¬
troduction by Karl Barth. Foreword by H. Richard
Niebuhr TB/11
^ENNE GILSON: The Spirit of Thomism tb/jij
ADOLF HARNACK: What IS Christianity 7 S ^ Introduction
by Rudolf Bultmann TB/17
FRIEDRICH HCCEL: On Christianity: Early Theological
l^ritings. Ed. by R. Kroner and T. M. Knox TB/79
KARL HEIM: Christian Faith and Natural Science ^ tb/i 6
IMMANUEL KANT: Religion Within the Limits of Reason
Alone. % Intro, by T. M. Greene 6r J. Silber TB/67
K. E. KIRK: The Vision of God: The Christian Doctrine
of the Summum Bonum S ^ rB/137
JOHN MACQUARRIE; An Existentialist Theology: A Com¬
parison of Heidegger and Bultmann. • ^ Preface by
Rudolf Bultmann tb/i2$
FAUL RAMSEY. Ed.: Faith and Ethics: The Theology of
H. Richard Niebuhr ro/tzg
EUCEN ROSENSTocK-HUESSYr The Christian Future or the
Modern Mind Outrun Intro, by Harold Stahmer
T*/x 43
PIERRE TEILHARD DE CHARDIN: The Divine Milieu ^ ^
TB/3B4
PIERRE TEILHARD DC CHARDIN: The Phenomenon of
^ ^ TB/383
Religion, Culture & Society
lOSEPH t. BLAU. Ed,: Cornerstones of Religious Freedom
In America: Seltcfed Basic Documents. Court De¬
cisions and Public Statements. Revised and Enlarged
Edition TB/iig
WILLIAM A. CLEBSCH A CHARLFs R |AEKLE Pastoral Catc
in Historical Perspective An Essay with Exhibits.
New Preface by the Authors TB/140
c. c. cillispie: Genesis and Geology The Decades be¬
fore Darwin S TB/51
KYLE HASELDEN: The Racial Problem in Christian Per-
•P«»ive „/tJ6
WALTER KAUPMAMN. Ed.: Religion from Tolstoy to
Camus: Basic Writings on Religious Trufh and
Morafs. Enlarged Edition TB/ta3
KENNETH 8. MURDOCK: Literature and Theology in
ColoiUal New England TB/99
M. RICHARD NIEBUHR: Chfist and Culture ^ rB/3
H. RICHARD NIEBUHR: The Kingdom of Cod in America
TB/49
K. B. perry: Puritanism and Democracy TB/X138
PAUL pfurrzE: Self. Society. Existence: Human Nature
and Dialogue m the Thought of George Herbert Mead
and Martin Buber rB/1039
WALTER rauschenbusch: Christianity and the Social
Crisis, t Edited by Robert D. Cross TB/3059
KURT samuelsson: Religion and Economic Action: A
Critit^ue of Max Weber's The Protestant Ethic and the
Spirit of Capitalism I ^ Trans, by £. G. French. Ed.
with Intro, by O. C. Coleman TB/1131
TIMOTHY L. SMITH: Revivalism and Social Reform: Amer¬
ican Protestantism on the Eve of the Civil War ^
TB/1229
NATURAL SCIENCES
AND MATHEMATICS
Biological Sciences
CHARLOTTE AUERBACH: The Science of Genetics 2 a
TB/368
IOHN TYLER BONNER: The Ideas of Biology. Z ^ tUus.
tb/s7o
A. |. CAIN: Animal Species and their Evolution. ^ Ulus.
T»/si 9
w. E. LC CROs CLARK: The Antecedents of Man; Art Intro¬
duction to Evolution of the Primates. ^ ^ lllus. 78/339
w. H. DOWDtswcLi; Animal Ecology. ^ lllus. TB/543
w. H. DOWDCSWELi: The Mechanism of Evolution. ^ lllus.
TB/527
R. w. GERARD: Unresting Cells, lllus. TB/341
j. E. MORTON. Molluscs: An Introduction to Their Form
and Functions, lllus. TB/529
p. M. SHEPPARD: Natural Selection and Heredity. ^ IPus.
TB/528
EDMUND w. sinnott: Cell and Psyche; The Biology of
Purpose TB/346
C. H. WAODiNCTON: The Nature of Life The Main Proh-
terns and Trends in Modern Biology tb/sBo
Chemistry
1 . R. PARTINGTON: A Short History of Chemistry. ^ lllus.
TB/522
Commurticafion Theory
I. R. pierce: Symbols, Signals and Noise: The Nature
and Process of Communication ^ TB/374
Geograp hy
R. t. COKER: This Great and Wide Sea An Introduction
to Geeanography and Marine Biology, lllus. TB/351
P. K. HARE. The Restless Atmosphere ^ TB/360
History of Science
MARIE BOAS. The Scieniific Renaissance, x^so-iS^o ® ^
TB/585
w. DAMPIER. Ed,: Readings in the Literature of Science.
lllus. TB/312
A. HUNTFR DUFRCt; Scicnce in the Federal Government
A History of Policies and Activities to 7^40 ^ TB/573
ALEXANDRE KOvB^ FfOm the Closed World to the Infinite
Universe: Copernicus. Kepler. Galileo. Newton, etc ^
TB/31
11
A. G. VAN melscn: Ffom Atomos to Atom: A History of
the Concept Atom TB/517
STEPHEN TOUtMiN * fUKC cooDFiTiD: Th« Architecture of
Matter: Physics, Chemistry & Physiology of Matter,
Both Animate & Inai^imate, As it Evolved Since the
Beginning of Science ^ ^ TB/564
STEPHEN TOULMrN a |UNE coooTTEVD: The Discovery of
Time ® ^ n/sBs
Mathematics
E. w. BETH: The Foundations of Mathematics; A Study
in the Philosophy of Science ^ tb/sOi
s. KdRNER: The Philosophy of Mathematics: An Intro¬
duction ^ TB/547
ccoRce E. OWEN: Fundamentals of Scientific Mathe*
matics n/$ 6 o
tviLLARD VAN ORMAN GUINE: Mathematical Logic TB/556
FREDERICK WAisMANN: Introduction to Mathematical
Thinking. Foreword by Karl Monger ra/sti
Philosophy of Science
R. B. BRAiTHWAiTE: Scientific Explanation *tb/515
l. BRONOwsKi: Science and Human Values. ^ Revised and
Enlarged Edition TB/505
AtBERT EINSTEIN et at.: Albert Einstein: Philosopher^
Sdentlsl. Edited by Paul A. Sch//pp Vol. I Ts/5oa
Vol. II TB/503
WERNER HEI5ENBERC: Phystcs and Philosophy: The Revo¬
lution in Modem Science ^ • TB/549
KARL R. POPPER: Logic of Scientific Discovery ^ TB/576
STEPHEN TOULMIN: Foresight and Understanding: An
Enquiry into the Aims of Science^ ^ Foreword by
Jacques Barzun TB/564
STEPHEN TOULKDf: The Philosophy of Science: An
troduction ^ n/513
Physics and Cosmology
JOHN E- AiLEN: Aerodynamics: A Space Age Surrey ^
n/ssi
p. w. BRIDGMAN: Natufc of Thermodynamics TB/557
c V. dureel: Readable Relativity. ^ Foreword by free*
man J, Dyson TB/550
ARTHUR EDDINGTON: Space. Time and Gravitation: An
Out/me of the Genera! Relativity Theory TB/510
GEORGE CAMOW: Biography of Physics Z ^ TB/567
STEPHEN TOULMIN a JUNE cooDFiEiD: The Fabric of the
Heavens: The Development of Astronomy and Dy¬
namics, ^ Ulus, "^^579
i
f
LiB'
aiim IQBfll LIBRPRY
83878
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